


Your Heart for Mine

by DaniJayNel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Happy Ending, Heart Transplant, Ilse is Ymir's sister, mention of depression, mention of suicide, mentions of grief, multi chap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2018-10-31 20:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10907034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: Born with a defect heart, Ymir develops congenital heart disease and requires a heart transplant. Luckily for her, the surgery happens without a hitch, and she gets to go home and live a whole new life. Ymir then starts to have dreams and feelings that are not entirely her own.Historia Lenz becomes Historia Reiss when she loses her mother, the most important person in her life. She struggles to handle the grief and accompanying depression when she goes to live with her biological father and finish her last year of school.Two lives intertwine in the most unexpected way, and they learn to give and take a little bit of their hearts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before you guys read this, please keep in mind I'm just a humble fanfic author and I do not, in fact, specialize in medicine, nor do I get paid to do this. Whatever medical stuff I have in this fic was taken off google and talking to people who have experience, so if anything is a little odd, that's why. If you notice anything laughably off, do let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

When Ymir experimentally flexed her fingers, warm hands covered them and lips pressed to her forehead. She furrowed her brows.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“Ymir, honey. Are you awake?”

Her eyes fluttered open. Harsh pale light from above made her squint until her sight adjusted. Those same warm hands from earlier gently cupped her face, and finally Ymir gathered the strength to fully open her eyes and glance upwards. A familiar face stared down at her.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“I…lse,” she croaked out. Her throat was raw and dry. It felt like her mouth was filled with cotton balls.

“Don’t push yourself,” Ilse urged. She disappeared for a moment and returned with a glass of water. She placed a straw at Ymir’s lips. “Drink some water. How do you feel?”

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

She drank a mouthful and tried to move, but her limbs felt dull and heavy and an ache pounded at her chest. Ilse held her down gently with a hand at her shoulder. “What…?”

“You’re still in Saint Sina, Ymir. Do you remember why you’re here?”

She could feel a heart beating rapidly in her chest, each little thud earning another soft wave of pain. It didn’t take long to remember everything. It wasn’t her heart beating in her chest. At least, it hadn’t been hers before.

“Yeah,” she croaked out. “What time is it?”

“A little over ten in the morning. I’ve been here ever since they finished the surgery. You’ve been pretty out of it since they moved you out of ICU a few days ago.”

Ymir could hardly remember anything from the past few days. She had vague flashbacks of pain and needles and bright light, but nothing solid. She didn’t mind. “Hurts,” she grunted softly.

Ilse rubbed a thumb over her cheek again. “It will hurt, sweetheart. They replaced your heart.”

Right. Yeah. She had a new heart. Ymir relaxed as much as she could and moved a hand to lay it over her chest. Beneath her palm and the bandages and tubes, she imagined she could feel a strong heartbeat. It felt good to have one again.

XxX

Ymir first realized something was wrong in the beginning of her third year in Sina University. It was the most prestigious school in all of Sina, and though it boasted an incredible student success rate, Ymir had only ever applied there for its sports programs. She was a swimmer. Ymir had been born in water, and sometimes she felt like water ran through her veins. No other school took swimming as seriously as Sina did, so the decision hadn’t been all that difficult. With her many distinctions and a scholarship, getting herself into Sina hadn’t been a problem either.

However, the true problem came the moment Ymir dove into their pool. It was huge, with clean, crystalline water that wasn’t exactly cold but not warm either. She spent more time swimming than studying, and her marks started to drop. Her mothers chastised her, her sister told her to be in the pool less, but she didn’t listen to them. Ymir loved the water, and the only thing she truly cared about was swimming. But she did need to maintain her marks to stay in that pool, and she only put in the bare minimum effort. So Ymir ended up going to nationals, and she failed spectacularly when her heart nearly gave out mid-lap and another swimmer had to pull her out of the pool. She was rushed to the hospital after that.

 _“It’s a congenital heart defect,”_ the doctor had said, looking morosely as if it personally affected him.

 _“But she’s only twenty-one,”_ Ilse had argued.

 _“We’re not sure what constitutes congenital heart defects besides it simply being hereditary. Unfortunately some cases go overlooked until symptoms are spotted later on in life. Have you ever experienced such symptoms before now?”_ He’d turned to look at her.

Ymir glared a hole into his desk, because yes. She had. In her first year she’d started experiencing shortness of breath and often had to just climb out of the pool and catch her breath. Sometimes the tips of her fingers had gone blue. But she ignored it, because ignoring it meant she could go to nationals. Ymir didn’t want to give that up. When she eventually muttered her reluctant response, the doctor gave her a pitying look.

_“I’m afraid your heart is struggling to keep itself going. The longer it was left untreated the more it deteriorated. You’ll need a new heart.”_

And Ymir’s life ground to a complete standstill. With her newly fucked up heart, which had apparently been fucked up before she was even born, she couldn’t swim anymore. Regular visits to the hospital became the norm, and doing simple things like chores in the house left her too short of breath and exhausted. She needed Ilse’s help for almost everything, and Ymir had never felt so pathetic in her life before.

She was on the heart transplant waiting list, but it seemed like she was simply running out of time. Her condition worsened to the point that she couldn’t leave the hospital, and her family were starting to give her those looks, the ones Ymir began to recognize. They thought they were losing her, that one day her heart would just give out and she would slip into oblivion. At first Ymir didn’t believe it—she would get a heart, get the surgery and move on with her life. But with no heart, there was no surgery. And there just seemed to be no heart at all.

It was only once Ymir had decided to accept the fact that she was going to die that her doctor had rushed into her room, flushed in the cheeks and grinning from ear to ear. _“We have a heart,”_ she’d said. _“Your surgery is scheduled for tonight.”_

XxX

“How are you feeling?”

Ymir stared up at the ceiling, inhaling carefully as her doctor, Nanaba, prodded and inspected the deep incision on her chest. “Like superwoman,” she answered honestly.

Nanaba chuckled. “That’s good. How’s the pain?”

“Honestly, not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Nanaba only smiled, then she took out her stethoscope and listened to Ymir’s heartbeat. “Heart sounds good. Have you been getting some exercise?”

Ilse snorted from her spot in front of the bed. “She’s about ready to jump into the nearest pool again. I have to stop her every time.”

“Hey, new heart, same old me,” Ymir joked. She laughed softly when Ilse did. Nanaba only shook her head in exasperation and then she set the stethoscope around her neck and stuck her hands into her pockets.

“Aright, Ymir, everything looks good. You’re healing nicely and your body isn’t rejecting the heart yet. You’ll need to stay on your medication and we’ll be seeing you often to make sure that heart keeps working.”

Ymir grabbed two handfuls of the hospital sheets. “Does that mean I can go home?” Even Ilse looked excited by the prospect.

“Yes, you can go home,” Nanaba told her with a smile. “But remember to take it easy, alright? You can sign yourself out today. If you notice anything strange or just need to talk, you have my number.”

Ymir wanted nothing more than to jump off the bed and dance until her legs ached. She settled instead for throwing her arms up and shouting at the ceiling. This sort of joy was the kind she had never felt before. Sure, her chest still hurt like shit, as it would, but she was alive. She had a new heart, one that was still strong and _not fucked up._ She could breathe in and not feel like she was about to black out. She could do simple things like walk down the stairs and not stop halfway, out of breath. In the face of all that, Ymir felt absolutely amazing.

XxX

Ilse was older by three years, and that meant that she was the overly protective big sister. It was annoying most times, but Ymir really appreciated it when Ilse helped her get settled in the car and then drove way below the speed limit to their mothers’ house. It was nice to be out of the hospital, and especially nice not to be hooked up to all those goddamn drains and drips and monitors. For this little moment, at least, Ymir’s body was hers again.

“Mum is probably going to cry when she sees you,” Ilse commented with a soft grin. “Mom is probably crying already."

Ymir snorted. “Seeing mum cry is the funniest shit ever. She looks like she could kill you with the flick of a finger, but she’s so sensitive inside.”

“Oh yeah, you definitely get that from her,” Ilse laughed. “You’ve mastered her murderous glare, but you aren’t quite as hard-core as mom.”

Ymir nodded. “Hell yeah. Mom can fuck shit up. You must get that from her.” She went quiet for a bit and watched the scenery pass them by. “Ilse?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

Ilse playfully ruffled her hair. “Anything for you, Ymir.”

“I mean it. Just because you’re my sister it didn’t mean you had to take me in and deal with my difficult ass through it all.”

“Hey, I love that difficult ass. You’re my family, and our mothers taught us one very important thing; family matters when they act like it.”

Ymir felt all warm and tingly inside. The heart in her chest felt ready to burst, but not in a way that would have made Ymir worry. Now it only made her smile. She felt tears prickle her eyes but held them back. There was no way she was crying before mum did, absolutely fucking not. She was going to be twenty-four now. A grown ass woman.

When they stepped out of the car and Ymir saw their mothers already waiting in the driveway, clutching at each other like the ground was crumbling beneath them, she couldn’t keep her tears to herself anymore. They both wrapped her up in a gentle but warm hug, and Ymir let her tears roll freely down her cheeks. Her mum held onto her the fiercest, so mom let go and went to Ilse. Ymir just clung onto her, desperate for her warmth and strength. Both she and Ilse looked like their mum the most, with their tall statures, dark skin and freckles, but mom had given them the brown hair and brown eyes, mum having black hair. Ilse had slight flecks of green in her eyes from mum, but Ymir’s eyes were all brown. Mum was a machine, with muscles that could very, very easily kill a man. She prided herself in that. But despite how lethal she could be, with Ymir in her arms there, Ymir had never felt her fall apart quite so easily. Her shaking hands ran through Ymir’s hair and she pressed soft kisses all around her face.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said softly.

Ymir laughed softly and pulled away to wipe off her tears. “I never went anywhere.”

Mum placed a hand on her cheek, green eyes shimmering with tears, overcome with affection. “Yeah, you didn’t.”

Mom took their hands and led them into the house, Ilse trailing behind. She was snickering behind her hand, but Ymir didn’t really care. She could already smell mom’s cooking and it made her tummy rumble. She watched mom and Ilse disappear into the kitchen and followed mum into the lounge, where they sat down on the couch together and started watching TV, shoulders touching. Ymir eventually gave in and scooted down to rest her head on mum’s shoulder, and then her eyes slid closed and she softly dozed off, feeling happier than she’d ever been.

XxX

A bright light flashed across her eyes, making Ymir flinch away from it and cover her face with a hand until the pain eased away and her sight adjusted. Once it had she dropped her hand and glanced around at her surroundings. She was… in Saint Sina?

A nurse walked by pushing a patient in a wheelchair, smiling at Ymir as she went. Ymir smiled back instinctively. She was dressed in her casual wear, so she wasn’t a patient. Why was she back here? Ymir’s legs started moving then, taking her down a long hallway. She didn’t question it as she rounded the corner and came to a stop.

“Come on! Please!” a girl shouted, slamming a fist against a vending machine. She hit it again and again, each time with more anger, more vengeance. She was much shorter than Ymir, with long golden hair falling about her shoulders and round cheeks filled with pink. She looked very distraught, but she was in a hospital, so Ymir figured it wasn’t so out of place. “God damn it!” the girl roared.

Ymir took pity on her. She strode over and gave the machine a solid kick right at the bottom, and sure enough the stuck snack rattled free and dropped to the bottom. The girl’s head snapped up, watery blue eyes wide. Ymir provided a sheepish grin. “I spent enough time here to learn a few tricks,” she explained. “I saw you were having trouble.”

The girl clasped her hands together and merely stared up at her, apparently too stunned to respond. So Ymir bent down and retrieved the chocolate bar. She held it out with a smile. “My name’s Ymir,” she said. “Having a bad day?”

The girl took the treat. “Ymir,” she said softly. “Thank you. I’m Historia. And yeah, you could say that.”

Historia. An odd yet beautiful name. Ymir was suddenly overcome with a wave of affection for this girl, even though they had only shared a minute of conversation. Historia looked way too exhausted and upset for Ymir’s liking, so she pointed to a group of chairs against the wall. “Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested. “Relax a little.”

Historia ran a hand over her face. “I can’t relax,” she said. “Not now… not while she…” she trailed off and then slumped her shoulders. Ymir gently placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her over to the chairs, relieved when Historia dropped down in one of them. She filled the seat beside her. “Sorry.”

Ymir waved her hand. “What’re you apologizing for? I’m practically a weirdo that invaded on your breakdown.”

Historia laughed around a sniffle. “You could tell, huh?”

“Yup. Hospitals tend to do that to people.”

Historia looked down at her lap. She seemed so sad, so… small. Ymir wanted to reach out and comfort her. There was no logical explanation for these feelings, but they were there. The heart in Ymir’s chest gave an uneven thump, making Ymir press a hand there.

“You come here often too?” Historia asked her softly. “For you or someone else?”

Ymir furrowed her brows. “Me, actually. I just recently got a heart transplant. I was born with a heart defect .” She exhaled loudly and slid down on the seat. “But, lucky me, someone didn’t need their heart anymore. Now I have a whole new life ahead of me.”

Historia placed a small hand on her wrist. The touch was clearly hesitant, but warm, and Ymir certainly didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but I’m glad it worked out. I can’t imagine going through something like that.”

Ymir studied Historia’s gaunt features, had the sense that she most likely hadn’t slept well in a while. “We all have our problems,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Historia shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Of course. No one wanted to talk about their personal problems with a complete stranger. Ymir felt dumb for asking, but something in Historia’s eyes simply compelled her. “Right. Sorry for asking. I should, uh…” She made to get up, but Historia grabbed onto her arm and held tight.

“Stay, please?” She blushed softly and looked away. “I just… haven’t had company in a while. I really need it.”

Who was Ymir to say no? She felt like there was nothing she would deny this girl. With a nod she settled back into the seat, and then she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the vending machine across from them. Historia ate the chocolate bar in silence, offered half to Ymir. She accepted it with a thanks. After a while she released a jaw splitting yawn, and turned to suggest that they move somewhere more comfortable, but then Historia slumped against her and Ymir heard the soft sound of her snoring. She didn’t have the heart to wake her.

Ymir settled a little lower, allowed Historia to rest on the crook of her neck, and just sat there in silence. Her chest began to ache. Historia smelt nice, like coconut and lavender. Ymir’s eyes grew heavy too, and then before she knew it, with a cute stranger at her side, Ymir fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see you seeing major character death in the tags, but I also see you seeing me, and if you see me, you'll know that I hate tragic endings, so trust me ;) hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you did.


	2. Chapter 2

A can dropping in the vending machine startled Historia out of her brief, uncomfortable sleep. She straightened in the seat and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes. Wisps of something important danced right at the edge of her mind, until she remembered her dream with the strange Ymir and she glanced around. Of course Ymir wouldn’t be there, it had just been in her head. She remembered getting extremely frustrated with the vending machine, and then she’d collapsed on the chair and simply sat there alone, in the sterile silence of Saint Sina Hospital until her eyes drooped and she’d fallen asleep in an awkward position. Her heart ached.

 _Might as well get back to mother,_ she thought. She stood on shaking legs and shoved her hands into her hoody pockets, but froze. Her fingertips brushed against a chocolate wrapper. She pulled it out and felt her breath grow short. It was… the one she hadn’t been able to get earlier. She remembered giving up when it got stuck, and then in her dream Ymir had kicked the vending machine and gotten it loose. Historia walked over to the vending machine and stared through the glass, at where her chocolate had been stuck. There was a soft tinge of sweetness on her tongue.

Deciding that she was most definitely having several minor breakdowns on top of the major one, Historia tossed the wrapper in the nearby dustbin and headed back towards her mother’s room. She couldn’t have been gone more than thirty minutes, yet it felt like an eternity when she stepped into the room and her mother glanced over at her. Her smile was weak and forced, and when she held her hand out Historia took it. Her skin was almost papery thin.

“Where’d you run off to?” mother asked.

Historia settled in her usual chair and drew herself closer to the bed. “Just went for a snack. I fell asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Historia, you don’t need to apologize.” Mother used her free hand to gently caress Historia’s cheek. “You’ve been such a good girl through my illness. I’m sorry that I’m doing this to you.”

Historia quickly took both her hands and gave them a very gentle squeeze. “I’d do anything for you, mother. It’s alright.”

Mother’s smile turned sad. “You haven’t returned to school since I came here, Historia. You need to take care of yourself.”

Historia shook her head. “My teachers understand. I email my homework to them and I’ve rescheduled my tests for when you’re back home. I’ll be fine. You need to focus on yourself right now.”

Mother pulled her hands away, making Historia feel cold. “Doctor Reber just left before you got back,” she said quietly. Historia’s heart jolted.

“What… what did she say?”

Mother sighed. “The new bout of treatments are not working, Historia. All they’re doing is weakening my body. She says I don’t have much time left.”

 _No._ “No, that can’t be.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Why are you saying this? You need to stay positive. You can beat this.”

“I’ve been sick for years now. I’m so…” A single tear slid down her pale cheek. Historia climbed onto the bed and wiped the wet trail away. She wrapped her arms around her mother, pressing her lips to her warm temple. Mother was tiny, her side of the family had the midget gene, as she liked to joke. But in that moment she seemed even smaller than usual, like the weight of everything was crushing her. Historia wanted to take all her pain away, but she didn’t know how. All she did was hold her. “I’m tired, and the pain is getting worse. I can’t do much more of this anymore. Historia, you…” She sucked in a breath. “You need to move in with your father until you’ve finished school.”

Historia wanted to laugh. “With him? No way. I’m staying right here with you.”

“I mean when I’m gone, sweetheart.”

Historia’s entire body went cold. She knew this was coming. She’d known this since the first day her mother had fallen ill, when her father left them on their own to deal with the treatments and bills and the stress of it all. Through all of it, even when mother had been in the most pain, she had always tried so hard not to show it, to give Historia the best childhood that she could. Historia couldn’t lose that. But she knew that she would. She could just see it in her mother’s watery, defeated eyes. It still punched a hole right through her heart and made it almost impossible to breathe.

“I’m right here,” she eventually croaked out, because with her mother so weakened, it was her turn to be the strong one. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she promised. Her mind was made up. No matter how much it hurt, how badly she wanted to give up, she wouldn’t. While she still could, she would do everything her mother wanted of her.

“Thank you,” mother sniffled out. “I think I should get some sleep. Just this short conversation tired me out. Could you do me a favour?”

Historia pulled away and climbed off the bed, a hand still on her mother’s. “Yes.”

“Give your father a call,” she begged. “Just tell him that you will be staying with him soon.”

Historia swallowed. Her hands were shaking badly. “I…” She wanted to argue, to say that no, they had more than enough time for Historia to finish school and find a job before… before anything happened. But her mother was looking at her pleadingly, and all Historia could do was nod and kiss her mother on the forehead before heading out back to the vending machine to place a call she didn’t want to make.

She was nineteen and still in school. Due to the frequent hospital visits, she had prioritized her mother over finals, and so she had failed grade 12 the first time. Historia regretted not trying harder, because if she had just managed to pass the first time she could have been working and supporting her mother, she could have taken that weight off of her mother’s shoulders. Then she wouldn’t need to turn to her dirtbag of a father. Still, her mother had asked, so she pulled her phone out and dialled in his number. He answered on the second ring.

“Rod Reiss speaking.”

His voice made Historia’s stomach roll. She hated the little girl inside of her that missed him, that felt a tiny measure of comfort at the deep tone of his voice. He was a big man, with cold, steely blue eyes and long blonde hair that last she’d seen, he kept tied up. He reminded her of a bear sometimes, and if she wasn’t so mad and disappointed in him, she would find that endearing.

“Father,” she said, tone clipped. “It’s Historia.”

“Historia?” He sounded surprised. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

“I’m sure mother already contacted you.”

A beat. “She did.”

“So you already know what I have to say.”

“Is she… did Alma…?” He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence, which made it hurt all the more that he somehow still cared.

Historia opened her mouth to say that no, her mother was still very much alive, but then she heard nurses shouting and her blood ran cold. She started running before she even realized what she was doing, and then she saw Dr Reber at her mother’s side, ordering the nurses to stand back. There was only one sound Historia could hear, the long, monotone beep of the heart monitor. She stood in the doorway, staring at Dr Reber’s tall form as she stared solemnly at mother’s still figure.

“No,” she choked out. Her father was frantically yelling, but she couldn’t hear him. Her phone dropped to the floor. “She’s not…”

Dr Reber turned to her, eyes filled with pity. Historia couldn’t move into the room, couldn’t step away from it either. She just stood there, her heart lurching and thumping and aching.

“Miss Lenz,” Dr Reber started gently. “I’m so sorry. There was nothing we could do.”

Her vision suddenly became blurry. She couldn’t figure out why, until she felt hot tears dripping from her chin. Suddenly Dr Reber was in front of her, hands on Historia’s shoulders. She didn’t say anything, didn’t make Historia move. Little by little Historia felt her world go cold and dark. Her tears dried up, her heart slowed down. When Dr Reber decided that she had recovered enough, she finally moved away.

“Do you have someone you can contact?” she asked.

Historia nodded mutely. Dr Reber guided her away from the room and stayed by her side while she called her father again. He was already on his way, he said. He’d heard the commotion. He sounded out of breath, worried, but Historia couldn’t find it in her heart to even care. She told Dr Reber to leave her, then slid down to the floor and wrapped her arms around her legs and stayed there, staring vacantly ahead until her father’s legs blocked the view.

“Historia?”

She stood up. “I’ll need to pack all my stuff,” she told him, voice monotone. “There isn’t much.”

He gave her a pained look, but silently nodded. “You can get in the car. I’ll take care of the rest for you.”

She nodded. She didn’t even want to know what the rest was. He went over to a group of nurses after handing over his keys, and Historia made her way out of Saint Sina. It was cold and dark outside, fitting her mood nicely. Once she located her father’s car, she climbed in and locked the doors. She drew her legs up against her chest and rested her chin atop her knees. There was nothing but silence and her fluttering heartbeat.

Historia wanted to scream, to sob and swear and cry, but there was nothing left inside of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry Historia ;-;


	3. Chapter 3

Ymir traced the long scar on her chest. It itched horrendously, but she was trying her best not to scratch it. The bath water clung to her skin, steam floating above her head. It felt so good to be in the water, even though it wasn’t a pool. She wasn’t recovered enough for that yet, but she could at least start doing things on her own and with more confidence. The first time she was able to vacuum the lounge without collapsing, she’d nearly started crying. Ilse teased her for it for days, but Ymir could see that even she was insanely happy about it.

“Ymir, you doing a diving competition in there?” Ilse called from the other side of the door.

Ymir laughed. “Don’t distract me, I’m winning!”

“Dinner is ready, you goof. Get out of the bath.”

Ymir leaned forward and pulled the plug, snorting to herself. “Sure thing, _mom_.”

But Ilse had already walked away. Ymir gingerly climbed out of the bath and took her time drying and dressing. Once she was clothed she left the bathroom and padded out into the dining room. Ilse was in the kitchen, plating the last of their food.

“You have two mothers,” Ilse commented. “Why do you insist that I’m your third?”

Ymir popped a roast potato into her mouth and dodged Ilse’s slap. “Because you act like it. And imagine how lucky a person could be to have three wonderful mothers.”

Ilse rolled her eyes. “You flatter me.”

“I try.”

Ymir grabbed her plate and together they went into the lounge, sitting down beside each other on the couch. Ilse switched the TV on to the news and then they sat there quietly eating, the only sound their forks scraping on the plates and the voices from the TV. When Ymir was done she set her plate down on the coffee table and collapsed backwards, sighing and rubbing her belly.

“Oh man, I totally have a food baby right now.”

Ilse laughed so suddenly that she nearly choked. She covered her mouth with a hand and then glared when Ymir started laughing at her. “Don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry!” Ymir shook her head. “It’s the only sort of baby I’ll ever have.”

“Yeah, you huge lesbian.”

“Says the pansexual.”

Ilse slapped her leg, but Ymir decided to behave. She grabbed both of their plates and went into the kitchen to wash them. Ilse followed her.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ymir started hesitantly.

“About?”

“Getting a job.”

Ilse flicked the kettle on and leaned against the counter, silent for a long moment. “You won’t go back to school?”

Ymir stared intently at the soapy dishwater. “No. I think I should stop trying to swim so hard, you know? I need a job. I can help you pay the bills and start pulling my own weight around here.”

“Are you sure? You giving up swimming is like… me giving up air.”

Ymir pulled the plug and watched the soapy water drain. “Getting this new heart has changed the way I feel about a lot of things. I still love swimming, but not like I did before. I can always swim at the gym. It’s not like I’ll never swim again. It just won’t be competitively or to the detriment to my health.”

Ilse seemed to mull her words over. Eventually she finished making a cup of tea for herself. “Okay. I’m proud of you, Ymir. After everything, you’re still such a level headed person. Do you know what you want to do yet?”

Ymir dried her hands off. “Not yet. I’ll start looking around for vacancies. I just need something to get me out of the house right now.”

“Just remember to take it easy, okay? You aren’t fully recovered yet.”

Ymir balled up the dishtowel in her hands and chucked it right at Ilse’s face. She laughed loudly and darted out of the room, Ilse hot on her heels.

Within her chest, her heart thumped easily and steadily. She focused on the feel of it as she dove for the couch and covered her face with a pillow just as the dishtowel launched through the air. She felt so… light, and free. And it was amazing.

XxX

“Ymir!”

Even though most didn’t know her, the entire bar erupted into a joyous cheer the moment she stepped through the doors. She stopped, taken aback, and spotted her group of friends at their own table, cheering the loudest. They must have been the instigators, from the amused grins on all their stupid faces. Ymir flushed lightly but waved off the applause and trudged over to her friends. No matter the day or time, the people that spent their time at the Three Roses pub were always cheerful and eager to celebrate for anything, even for some random woman walking through the door.

“What the fuck guys?” she asked the moment she sat down.

They all laughed. “We’re all just glad to see you,” Reiner said, slightly hiding behind Berthold’s bigger form. Berthold, though, was hunching over and looking guilty enough for all of them.

“Sorry about that,” Berthold said. “I asked them not to.”

“I’ll never give up an opportunity to celebrate!” Sasha yelled enthusiastically. She lifted a half empty cup and hiccupped. Connie calmly lowered her arm until the cup was back on the table.

“Sash’, you’ve had too much to drink and the night hasn’t even started yet.”

“Have not.”

Ymir rolled her eyes. “Sasha, you’re an idiot. You’re all idiots.” She stared them down for a long moment. Berthold and Reiner to her right, Sasha, Connie and Annie in front of her. Annie seemed like she didn’t care—was actually lazily scrolling through her phone—but the rest of them seemed to start sweating. When Ymir grinned they all released a breath.

“You ass!” Reiner roared. “Don’t make us scared like that!”

Ymir laughed until her chest and belly ached. She hadn’t seen her friends since before her long hospital stay. They’d all been too busy with school to really see her, and when they did manage a visit, she was usually asleep. She never realized how much she had missed all of them. Reiner gave her the biggest hug of all, making her wince slightly, but she relished it. Berthold gave her a very hesitant hug, but he really gave the best hugs out of everyone. Sasha and Connie ambushed her together, and then Annie have her an awkward one armed hug that made them both blush slightly and then back up quickly as if it never happened. When the greetings and emotions had been given, Reiner ordered another round of drinks.

“Ah, just a water for me, please,” she told him. He lifted a brow, so she pressed a hand to her chest. “New heart, new me.”

He smiled at that and ordered a glass of water. They all started chatting then. She discovered that Sasha had landed a job at one of Sina’s really nice restaurants, so she was considering dropping out of university to pursue that. Connie was arguing with her not to, but she was still on the fence. Ymir told her to do whatever would make her happiest in the long run. Annie was the only one of them that had never gone to university, and so she was already pretty well of as assistant manager in her career. Ymir was partly envious and partly proud.  Reiner shyly revealed that he and Berthold were a thing, though no one at the table were particularly surprised. Reiner blushed brightly when Ymir started making crude jokes. Connie was still studying law, but he hated it and was really focusing on basketball. Ymir high fived him for that. She told them that she was thinking of finding a job, and though they were all surprised at first they all eventually started another round of cheers that the entire bar joined in on again. Ymir could only sigh in exasperation.

Hours flew by in a heartbeat, and before Ymir knew it midnight had already arrived. She knew she should get home, but she didn’t want to leave her friends. They made her feel alive, happy. They reminded her that there was definitely a life out of the situation she had been in. They made her feel like she had a purpose.

“You alright there?” Reiner asked softly.

Ymir smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“How’s the heart?”

“Strong as a horse.”

He laughed. “That’s good. Man, I really thought we were going to lose you, you know? I mean, you’re a stuck up bitch but we all love the fuck out of you.”

Ymir glared at him, but inside she was warm and tingly. “You’re not so bad yourself, dick for brains.”

His eyes flashed with affection. “Thank you for staying with us, ‘Mir. Really.”

What was it about this new heart that just made everyone around her cherish her so much? She felt like she had accomplished nothing more than merely surviving, yet everyone that knew her thanked her for staying alive, for fighting and getting a new heart. It gave her such confusing feelings, but they were all pleasant. It made Ymir want to do something amazing with her life, to make all these people proud that she’d done something good with her second chance. But more than that, too, she wanted to be proud of herself.

There weren’t that many people left at the Three Roses besides their group, so Ymir wished everyone a good night and headed home alone. She played some relaxing music on the way, finger tapping lightly on the steering wheel the whole while.

XxX

The dream was different this time. Instead of being at the hospital or in a fancy big house, Ymir found herself standing outside of Three Roses. She wasn’t sure how she knew it was a dream. She stood there for a while, wondering what she was supposed to do, and then the doors opened and loud chatter spilled outside. Ymir decided to head inside and see where it led her. She found herself searching the crowd for a familiar face, wondering if she would even see it. From the past few dreams of her, Ymir had the sense that Historia wasn’t quite old enough to be here. But sure enough she found her, sitting at a table all alone. She pushed people aside and made her way over.

“Aren’t you a little young?” Ymir said, dropping into the seat.

Historia’s cold blue eyes flicked up to her face, but there was no surprise there—no emotion at all. “I’m nineteen,” she said, monotone. “I can do what I want.”

Ymir grimaced. “Sorry, you’re just so –”

“Small?” Historia snapped. “Well done, you have eyes.”

How was it that this girl could sass her in her own dream?

“You’re in a peachy mood I see,” Ymir deadpanned. “Like always.”

“This is just a dream,” Historia supplied. She sat back in the seat and sighed. “When will it end?”

Ymir furrowed her brows. The loud noises around her died down to nothing, until all she could hear was their synchronised heartbeats. She felt short of breath suddenly, something that always sent a whisper of fear through her. Ymir placed a hand against her chest and watched Historia’s eyes follow. They narrowed and filled with anger.

“Enjoy it?” she asked.

Ymir swallowed. “Wh-what?”

Historia sighed. “I don’t even know why I said that.”

Even though it was a dream, Ymir felt like her mouth was dry. She was having heart palpitations as Historia calmly looked at her, and it felt like she was back to when she’d had a fucked up heart. She clutched tightly at her shirt.

“What did you mean, earlier?

“What?”

“When you said you want it to end. Did you mean this dream?”

There was complete silence around them. Only the soft _ba-dump_ in her chest swirled around them. Historia stared at her for a moment, her fierce expression melting into a solemn one. She looked so sad, so much smaller than she naturally was. Ymir wanted to reach out and touch her, to offer any form of comfort she could.

What was it about this heart in her chest that made her want to wipe Historia’s tears away?

“I meant everything,” Historia finally admitted. “I just want everything to end.”

Ymir’s breath wavered. The floor suddenly fell out from beneath them, sending them falling through black space into an infinite darkness. Historia was screaming and reaching out, but Ymir couldn’t reach her. The harder she tried, the farther away Historia drifted, until eventually she was a mere dot in the distance and her screams were like a distant echo. Ymir felt like she was falling for an eternity, stuck and panicked, until she suddenly bolted up in bed, shouting.

“Historia!”

Her arm was outstretched, her fingers quivering. It took a second to get her breathing under control, and even longer to stop the uneven thundering of her pulse. Ymir lowered her arm and stared down at her palm, at the few freckles on her wrist. She was utterly drenched in sweat and she felt disgusting. The clock beside her read 04:23 AM. Great, another early morning. She sighed in acceptance and climbed out of bed on shaky feet.

Even though she knew her heart was fine, she couldn’t help the nagging fear at the back of her head. She also wondered when these weird dreams about Historia would end. Why was she even having them?

Maybe it was time Ymir tried to figure out who Historia was, and what connection she had to the donor heart, if there was even one at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Historia jerked awake in bed, heart thundering. She gripped the fabric of the blanket so hard her fists turned white. Eventually her breathing eased off, but she still felt the phantom sensation of falling through that inky blackness. She remembered Ymir reaching out for her, floating far away until she couldn’t see her anymore. Why did she need to have these dreams? Well, they were better than her nightmares. Than _the_ nightmare. The one that had her thrashing in bed, screaming, where she was holding her mother’s hand over a cliff and letting go every time, forced to watch her fall and fall until she was crushed by the rocks and water below. Historia wiped a hand over her face.

“Historia? It’s time for you to get up for school,” Rod called from the other side of the door. He didn’t wait for a response, knew he would get none, and disappeared down the hallway. Historia waited until she couldn’t hear his footsteps before she shakily climbed out of bed and took a shower in her personal bathroom.

After she was clean and clothed in her school uniform, she headed down the grand staircase to the huge dining room. Rod and his wife were already there, eating happily while he read the newspaper and she fussed over their young son, Urklyn. When he noticed Historia he hopped off his chair and bounded to her, ignoring his mother’s cries for him to return to his seat.

“Histy!” he exclaimed, grinning wide. “I drew something for you.”

Historia forced herself to smile and crouched down to his level. He was already five, but he was so bright for his age. He looked much more like their father than Historia did, but he had blue eyes as well. Historia mostly looked like her mother. A fact that made her heart hurt every time she looked in the mirror.

“You did? That’s so sweet of you.”

Urklyn grinned even wider. It was a smile that mirrored Rod’s. Historia wanted to run out of the room, didn’t want to have to stand there and look at the childish joy on this kid’s face. He was her little brother, but she hadn’t met him until she had been forced to move in with her father. Urklyn was all sorts of happy to have a big sister, but Historia didn’t care. She tried to pretend that she did, though. But actually she didn’t.

Urklyn handed over a paper, where he had crudely drawn two stick figures. One had yellow squiggly lines by the head, so she assumed that was her. He had drawn a heart between them. “Because you’re so sad all the time,” he explained softly, pointing at a blue smudge on the stick lady’s face. “And you cry a lot.”

Rod lowered his newspaper. “Urklyn, get back to your mother and finish your breakfast. Leave your sister alone.”

Urklyn turned around, pouting. “But father.”

“No buts.”

He turned to look at Historia, pleading, as if she would say something that would save him from having to obey, but Historia only stared at him. He got the hint and scurried back to his mother, who playfully ruffled his hair. Urklyn giggled and gave her a hug. He was such a beautiful, happy boy. Historia hated him.

“I’ll walk,” she said to no one in particular. Rod called after her but she ignored him and left the house. She couldn’t get used to this. The massive yard, large house surrounded by similarly rich houses. Her room was bigger than her flat had been with her mother. She ate food now that would have taken half their salary for the month. It made her stomach sick, her heart hurt. So she stopped eating, too. She knew it was starting to show on her face. She was gaunt and thin, but she didn’t care.

The walk was silent and empty. She tried not to think too hard, because once she started thinking about… things, her emotions went all over the place and her chest would pull tight and she would feel like she suddenly couldn’t breathe. So instead Historia thought about her dream, about Ymir. There was odd comfort there. Over the past few months, she had dreamt about Ymir often. She wondered why that was. Ymir didn’t seem to have any answers, either. Was she someone Historia had made up? Was her mind trying to cope with what she had lost? Ymir did make her feel a bit of comfort. She’d learnt that Ymir was honest and open about how she felt and what she thought. She spoke a lot about how she had nearly given up on life, how getting her new heart had changed everything for her.

How she was so glad someone had died to give her their heart.

Of course she’d never said it like that, but Historia couldn’t help but think it. She felt irrational anger every time Ymir mentioned it. That heart wasn’t hers, even though Historia didn’t think she didn’t deserve it. Whoever had died clearly didn’t need it anymore.

Historia sighed at her own thoughts. Going down this route was bound to make her angry, and she didn’t need to be in an even worse mood. She decided then to just think about Ymir as a person—she was really attractive. Dark and mysterious, with freckles all over her face and deep brown eyes that Historia sometimes lost herself in. When Ymir was talking and she was listening, she found the world around her melt away as she looked into her eyes. It was weird, considering that all of this happened within a dream. She decided to just go along with it.

“Good morning Historia!”

She swallowed down all of her emotions and turned to give a small smile. “Morning Eren,” she greeted. Eren was from the Jaeger family. His father was the richest heart surgeon in the country, so it was natural that he would attend Sina Academy. Beside Eren were his two best friends, Armin Arlert and Mikasa Ackerman. Armin’s grandfather was a teacher at the academy and Mikasa’s father worked for Rod.

“Morning,” Armin greeted with a sweet smile. He had a book pressed to his chest.

Mikasa didn’t say anything, just nodded her head. Out of all of them, Historia could endure Mikasa’s company. The other two… were simply too cheerful for her, too concerned. She hadn’t told anyone about her personal demons, but she felt like they all knew anyway. They gave her pitying stares, and it drove her nuts.

Mikasa said something softly, causing Eren to laugh until he was red in the face. They were all walking towards their class. Historia watched the joy and ease on Eren’s face. He looked strong and healthy and happy. She hated him.

“Historia, what’s wrong?” Eren asked her. He’d caught her staring.

She looked away quickly and bit down on her lip. “Nothing.”

But Armin was giving her a piercing stare, telling her that he knew exactly what her thoughts were. He was judging her. She knew he was. She hated him too.

XxX

Grief was a consuming, terrible thing. No matter how many times people kept telling her it would get better, that time would heal all her wounds, life just became harder. It was in the tinniest things. She came home from school feeling empty and exhausted, and decided to skip dinner because she just wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten. Urklyn ran down the hallway, naked and covered in soap. His mother ran behind him, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Urklyn, stop running, you rascal!”

Historia froze at the open doorway.

_Mother poured shampoo in her long hair and lathered it in slowly. It created large, pretty bubbles that floated down in front of Historia’s face. She giggled and popped them with her tiny fingers. Mother laughed at her antics and washed the shampoo from her hair._

_“There,” she said, smiling beautifully. “All clean and pretty.”_

_Historia turned to her mother with a toothless grin. “As pretty as mother?”_

_Mother’s eyes softened. “Much prettier.” She turned around and grabbed for a towel, but Historia noticed the path to the doorway was clear. Her heart started pounding. There was no rhyme or reason to why she had decided it, but before her mother could wrap her up in the towel, Historia hopped out the bath and out the room. Mother gasped in surprise, and Historia laughed loudly. Her feet slipped on the floor, but she kept her balance, especially since mother was right behind her. She almost made it to the kitchen, but mother had much longer legs and caught her easily enough. She wrapped a pink, fluffy towel around Historia’s tiny body and then pulled her up into the air. Historia giggled and screamed._

_“Gotcha, you tiny rascal!” mother laughed. She blew against Historia’s throat, making weird noises. Historia laughed even harder. Mother carried her back to the bathroom and set her down to dry her body and hair. She smiled the whole time and Historia stared up at her, heart beating wildly with love and affection._

Urklyn must have decided that he couldn’t waste time saying hello, since he darted into the lounge, screaming. His mother was hot on his heels. She sent Historia an apologetic smile, but Historia didn’t care. She couldn’t breathe anymore. She bolted forward and ran up to her room, tears already streaming down her face. She locked her door, tossed her bag onto the floor and then collapsed beside her bed. She buried her face in her clean duvet and screamed long and loud. The screaming didn’t help, didn’t alleviate the burning ache in her chest. Memories of her mother washed into her mind, each more cheerful than the other, reminding her again and again of how much she loved her mother, how much she had truly lost.

When the pain simply became too much and her head swam from the force of her crying, she shot up and rushed to her window. It was a hard drop to the ground, but it would do. She climbed into the windowsill, fingers digging hard into the walls. Her heart was pounding furiously.

“What are you doing?”

Ymir’s voice didn’t surprise her. She didn’t even care anymore. Wind buffeted against her, taunting her to take the leap and end everything, drying the cold tears on her cheeks. She bit down on her tongue until the pain made her dizzy and blood seeped down her throat.

“I’m killing myself,” she choked out on a single breath. “Leave me alone. You’re just a dream.”

“If I’m just a dream, then so are you. Jumping is pointless then, right?”

Historia turned and glared over at Ymir. She stood right there in her bedroom, but the look in her eyes made Historia pause. It wasn’t pity or judgement. It was understanding, it was care. Historia shakily dropped down onto the floor and then sank to her knees. She covered her face with her hands, unable to keep her wracking sobs away. Warm arms wrapped around her, chasing the slight chill away.

“Life sucks so fucking much,” Ymir said beside her ear. “It really does. Nothing can make it better sometimes. It just hurts and hurts and it feels like it’ll ever stop hurting. But you learn to live with the pain. It never really goes away, it just becomes a part of you.”

Anger burned in her gut. “I lost my mother!” she screamed. “She died and I watched it happen and I… if I’d just never been born she wouldn’t have…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence. Her throat felt swollen and itchy. Ymir’s arms tightened even more.

“But you were born, and no amount of swearing about it is going to change that fact. All you can do now is honour your mother, and honour the life she gave you.” Ymir ran a hand through her hair. It felt so real. How could it feel so real? This was just a dream, just a figment of her imagination. Ymir was probably some celebrity she’d seen on TV somewhere. But the touch of her, even the smell of her, made Historia’s shudders melt away. Her sobbing turned to quiet tears, and then eventually even those stopped. The pain was still there, always there, but she felt a little stronger to carry it. “You can do it, Historia,” Ymir whispered. “I believe in you.”

“I wish you were real,” Historia whispered back. “I wish you could hold me for real.”

Ymir pulled away from her, brows furrowed. “I am real.”

Historia wiped the tears from her face. “This is a dream. You’re a figment of my imagination. When I wake up, you’re gone, Ymir. You’re not real.”

Ymir looked away, deep in thought. “I am though. When I wake up, you’re gone too. This is _my_ dream. If anything, _you_ aren’t real.”

Historia frowned. “No, this is _my_ dream.”

Ymir stared at her. “What if… what if this is our dream?”

Historia shrugged. “None of this makes sense.”

Ymir gently grabbed her shoulders. “What is your full name?” she asked. “Where do you live?”

Historia stared at her, eyes wide. “Historia Krista Reiss.” She bit down on her lip in thought. I live—”

Historia gasped, eyes shooting open. She had fallen asleep against the side of her bed, fists still clenched tight around handfuls of her blanket. Her face felt wet and sticky, and her eyes hurt from so much crying. Her mouth was dry as well. She sat up slowly, memory of her dream seeping in. It was weirder than usual, but she felt an odd lightness because of it.

A breeze rustled her hair. She turned in surprise to see her bedroom window wide open.


	5. Chapter 5

Historia Krista Reiss.

Ymir relaxed on the couch and lightly tapped her fingers along the edge of her laptop. Ilse was out at work, and she was at home doing nothing strenuous. She had done some cleaning, but there was only so much of that to do. She had decided to sit down and search the web for available jobs, but that had also led her to thinking about Historia.

A few days had passed since the last dream, when she had talked Historia down from jumping. Ymir remembered how weird that had been. She was watching a movie with Ilse and their mothers, when suddenly she’d been standing in a bedroom. It must have been Historia’s. Ymir had been woken by mum, who told her that she snored too loud. Ymir had been pretty shaken up, and mildly frustrated that she had been woken before Historia could relay her address. But she at least had a full name

_Should I_? Ymir wondered.

Part of her was a little worried. But if she started looking for Historia, only to discover that she indeed didn’t exist? That this was all just in her head? The last thing Ymir wanted was to feel like she was going crazy. Everything else in her life was really looking up for her. Besides the dreams, she woke up feeling happier than ever.

_Fuck it,_ she thought. _I need to figure this out eventually._

With her stomach in knots, Ymir opened up a new window and typed in Historia’s full name. She chewed nervously on her lower lip as she waited for google to load. Once it had, she furrowed her brows. The first search result was a Wikipedia page of the Reiss family. There were no results that mentioned Historia specifically, so Ymir went into the page.

_‘The Reiss family are an old and powerful family that span over hundreds of years. They invested in and built what Sina is today. They were originally known as the Fritz family, but once the nature of their business changed from physically building the town, to trading and creating income, they changed over to Reiss. The family tree begins with Bernhard Fritz I, and the current heir to the Reiss Empire is Rod Reiss.’_

Ymir went over to Rod’s page and scrolled around until she finally caught a single sentence that made her breath stick in her throat.

‘ _Rod is the father of two children, a daughter by the name of Historia and a son, Urklyn, each from different women.’_

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Historia is real?” There was no information on Historia herself, only the single sentence that said she was Rod’s daughter. Ymir suddenly burned with excitement. She decided to do a little more digging, and she was rewarded by finding Rod’s current home address. She sloppily scribbled it down on a paper, then stared down at it.

Her heart fluttered. She couldn’t do anything now. It was getting late, and she should start with dinner, anyway. She folded the paper up and slipped it into her wallet, then closed all the windows concerning the Reiss family. She continued her search for a job, and responded to a few ads before closing her laptop and heading into the kitchen. The least she could do until she could pay her own rent, was make sure Ilse had a hot meal when she got home.

Ymir made a tomato pasta dish, and she just finished scooping some in a bowl when Ilse strode into the kitchen, sighing. She looked exhausted, but was thankfully in a good mood.

“Hey there, ‘Mir. What’s that?”

Ymir accepted the forehead kiss she knew Ilse would give her, and then pulled some forks out. “Dinner,” she said simply. “Go sit down and I’ll bring it out. Do you want wine?”

Ilse groaned softly as she headed into the lounge, so Ymir took that as an affirmative. She grinned to herself and poured a giant glass of wine, then grabbed a bottled water for herself. She balanced everything in her arms and hurried into the lounge.

“You’re the best ever,” Ilse groaned when she took a bite of her food. “I’m tempted to tell you not to find a job.”

Ymir gave her a playful swat on the leg. “Hell no. I’m going to work. And not as your personal slave.”

Ilse pouted, but then she laughed and gulped down some of her wine. “Man, work was rough today. It feels good to just kick back and relax for a bit. The food helps.”

Ymir hummed in agreement. “Mom called earlier. She wants to know if you saw her Facebook post from last night.”

“Shit, I never got back to her.”

Ymir snickered, but didn’t comment. Ilse pulled her phone out and started scrolling around on Facebook, chewing on her food in between. Ymir allowed herself to smile like a dope and focused her attention on the TV while she finished her food up. She could admit, she had really gotten the hang of cooking. Her food was goddamn good.

Ilse started laughing at something she saw on her phone. “Oh god, I love mum so much. She’s so sassy on Facebook.”

Ymir snorted. “Tell me about it. She’s dissing me all the time.”

“Aw, she just loves you, Ymir. You know you’re her favourite.”

That was, in fact, untrue. Their mothers had no favourite, but they both knew that mum loved to tease Ymir the most. Ilse was a little too fierce for that, and even mum knew not to test her in that regard. It amused Ymir enough that she let it slide. Sometimes looking rough but being soft at heart was an inconvenience, but other times it livened her life up.

Ymir’s phone gave a loud ding on the coffee table. She reached over to grab it.

“Who’s that?” Ilse asked, still scrolling on her phone.

Ymir set her bowl aside.

**Unknown:** _Good day, is this Ymir Wikström?_

Ymir furrowed her brows. “I don’t know. It’s an unknown number.”

**Ymir:** _Hi. Yes this is her. Who is asking?_

**Unknown:** _My name is Hitch Dreyes. You responded to an ad I posted about a job. Are you available to come in for an interview?_

Ymir’s heart fluttered. “Holy shit, it’s about a job.”

Ilse finally looked away from her phone. “Oh my god, which one?”

“Remember that ad I responded to, about the beachfront store?”

“The one that sells surfing equipment and stuff?”

“Yeah, that one. The owner just messaged me. She wants me to go in for an interview.”

Ilse placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to peer at the chat. Hitch was still online, waiting for a response. Ymir wasn’t sure what to say, least of all she say the wrong thing. Ilse gave her a light tap on the jaw.

“Tell her you’d be happy to,” she instructed happily. “And ask what time and date suits her best.”

Ymir did so, heart thudding hard in her chest. Even though there was a level of uncertainty, she could already feel hope and happiness bleeding into her chest. It was an awesome feeling. Finally Hitch responded, and Ymir grinned happily at her screen like an idiot.

**Unknown** : _Would tomorrow morning be fine, around ten AM?_

Ymir quickly responded that yes, that would be perfect, and then Hitch wished her a good evening and she went offline. Ymir looked to Ilse, who was beaming.

“My baby sister has a job!” She threw her arms over Ymir’s neck and brought her into a tight, suffocating embrace. Ymir flailed.

“Ilse, I don’t have it yet! Calm down!”

“She’s going to love you, so of course you have it!”

Ilse did let up for a while, and even though Ymir was worried that she would pass out from the force of the hug, she couldn’t help the surge of happiness both this new prospect and Ilse’s affection gave her. She smiled to herself, thanking whatever gods were out there that her life was going so right for once.

XxX

Ymir stared out over the water, a sense of peace washing over her. It was still a little chilly, but the beach sand was steadily warming. She had her shoes in her hand and her toes in the sand. It was too good not to do it, even though Ymir knew she should have already headed up to the store to see Hitch.

Ymir thought about Historia as she stared at the gently swaying waves. Her chest twinged with pain, and she wanted nothing more than to have Historia there with her, let Historia feel the peace and sense of belonging that she did in that moment. From all the dreams, Ymir knew that, if Historia was real, then she was going through something terrible and painful. She had lost her mother, the only person she seemed to care about. From their brief discussions on it, Ymir knew that Historia had lost her sense of self and purpose when her mother passed. It was awful to watch this beautiful, wonderful person drown in sadness and grief. Ymir could hold her in the dreams, could give her many promises, but none of that would truly matter. They were dreams. She knew, deep down, that eventually she would need to see her for real. Ymir needed to know if the Historia in her dreams was the same Historia in real life, and if she was, then she was prepared to do whatever it took to help Historia heal.

Perhaps it was a little strange, to feel such extreme love and care for someone that could have possibly just been in her head. But it was there. Ymir knew she loved Historia. That love didn’t need a definition yet, just an action. It needed Ymir to make the first move.

“Are you alright?”

Ymir startled at the voice, and turned to see a woman staring at her curiously with a lifted brow. A tickle at her cheek made Ymir realize that she had tears streaming down her face. “Oh, god,” she mumbled, hurriedly wiping the tears off her face. “Shit. Sorry. I’m fine.”

“You looked pretty serious there,” the woman commented. “I was worried that you were about to go and drown yourself.”

Ymir laughed out loud. “I’m the last person that would do something like that, trust me.”

The woman nodded. “I assume you’re Ymir, right?”

Ymir’s eyes widened. “I am.”

“I’m Hitch.” She held her hand out, grinning slyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ymir’s cheeks burned hard. This had to be the absolute worst first impression she could give. How on earth was Hitch going to hire her now, after catching her staring into the horizon, weeping like some child?

“Hitch? I’m… oh geez, I’m so sorry.”

Hitch waved off her concern. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. We all cry sometimes. Let’s take this into my office and get down to business.”

Ymir nodded lamely and followed Hitch up the beach to the small store sitting near the parking lot. The building was made of wood, and their footsteps thudded loudly as they climbed the stairs. Every footfall made Ymir’s heart beat a little harder. Hitch seemed nice enough, but she still couldn’t shake the worry that she had just fucked up big time.

Hitch let them into the store, a bell jingling softly above their heads, and locked the door once they were inside. Ymir’s eyes swept over the store, taking in the surfboards lining the walls, the racks of swimming clothes and gear. The air smelt heavily of salt water and moisture.

“This way,” Hitch told her, heading to a door in the corner.

Her office was a little warmer, and Ymir felt slightly more comfortable after sitting in the guest chair in front of Hitch’s desk. The walls were painted a soft blue, with waves in a softer shade. Ymir couldn’t help herself from studying everything.

“Right,” Hitch started, setting in her chair. She pressed her elbows against her desk and narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why are you looking at working here, Ymir?”

Ymir swallowed. The nervousness rushed back. “I, er, dropped out of school and need a job.”

“Why did you drop out?”

“I recently had surgery.” She hesitated, but took in a short breath and decided that full honesty was the best, even if she was oversharing. “I got a new heart. After dying for a bit, I decided that school wasn’t so important anymore.”

“So you have no career aim? Nothing you want to do right now?”

“Not really, no. I’m trying to still figure out what to do with my life, especially now that I actually have one.”

Hitch sat back then and tapped the armrest of her chair. “I like how you look, Ymir,” she stated bluntly. “You’re tough looking, but from that display on the beach, you’re a softie. Right?”

Ymir blushed. “I guess.”

“I know this probably shouldn’t matter in a job interview. But if you work here, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s a bonus for me if you’re more attractive than I had hoped.”

Yup, she was blushing even harder then. She cleared her throat and scratched the bridge of her nose. “Uh, thank you?”

“I like you,” Hitch said. “I think I’d like to work with you. How soon can you start?”

Ymir blinked and looked up to meet Hitch’s eyes. Her expression was completely and utterly serious. Was this the perks of owning a shop? She could just make radical decisions like this?

“But… but you don’t even know what my qualifications are.”

Hitch shrugged. “I don’t care. Anyone can work a till and sell stuff. I want you.”

There was an odd emphasis on her last words, but Ymir chose to ignore them. Despite how weird this was, she could admit that she really liked Hitch too. Ymir instantly admired people that could be open and honest about what they wanted. It earned her respect almost immediately. “I can start whenever you want,” she finally answered.

Hitch nodded. “Tomorrow, then? I open at nine and close at six. I had a kid working here, but he decided to quit last minute. I’m kind of desperate for someone right now.”

Ymir resisted the urge to grin like an idiot. Instead she cleared her throat again and clasped her hands together. “That’s fine, actually.”

“Great. Try to get here a bit before nine. Around half past eight. We can go through your contract and I can go over store rules and how I do things. Thank you for meeting with me, Ymir.” She stood and held her hand out.

Ymir took it without hesitation, shaking with a bit too much enthusiasm. She grinned. “Thank _you_ , Hitch. I really appreciate the opportunity.”

“I should hope so,” Hitch said, smiling. “Now, I should probably open the store. From tomorrow I won’t have the stress of running things on my own anymore.”

Hitch walked her out and opened the shop. Ymir said goodbye and hurried down to her car. Hitch stared after her for a while, but eventually she disappeared into the shop. Ymir climbed into her car and gave a happy yell up into the ceiling.

“Yes!”

She gripped on the steering wheel until her knuckles went white, and then her heart gave a slow throb and her smile faded away. Staring out at the waves again, thoughts of Historia returned. She pulled her wallet out and stared at the paper with the address.

Maybe… maybe it was time to take that first step.

Her phone ran suddenly, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Ymir! We heard you went for a job interview today. How did it go? Are you up for drinks?”

It was Reiner, and he sounded more excited than even Ymir felt. She thought about rejecting the offer, staring at the paper in her hand, but then her nerves won out. “Sure. Three Roses?”

“Hell yeah. I’ll call the others.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you how it went when we’re all gathered.”

Reiner laughed. He was always so happy, and it made Ymir smile. “You better!”

Maybe the first step could wait until later.


	6. Chapter 6

Rod looked at her with a measure of surprise, his dark eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. Historia felt uncomfortable underneath his stare, but she didn’t back down. This was the first time she had actually requested something of him, and even though she felt like taking a shower for it, to scrub the horrid feelings off her skin, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He continued staring for a while, as if he wasn’t sure what he had just heard.

“You want me to find someone?” he asked.

Historia nodded firmly. “Her name is Ymir. I don’t know anything else about her, but her name is unusual enough. She probably lives here in Sina. I want to know where she lives and who she is.”

Rod glanced off to the side, fingers drumming on the surface of his desk. Eventually he released a puff of a breath and turned to look back at her. “Why do you want this?”

“The why doesn’t matter. I need to know. I’m sure you can do it, Rod. You have enough power, don’t you?”

His shifted in his seat, expression darkening. Whether it was her use of his name instead of ‘father’, or the request she was demanding, she didn’t know. At least he wasn’t saying no. He almost looked like he wanted to, but knew that he _couldn’t_. He owed her too much.

“I don’t condone this,” he told her sternly. “But I’ll do it. On one condition from you.”

She clenched her hands together and bit the inside of her cheek until it hurt. Of course he wanted something. They always did. “Okay,” she said, quite ready to do anything to get what she wanted.

“Have dinner with us in the evenings. You’ve barely been eating, Historia. Are you aware of how thin you’ve become? The last thing we want is for you to fall ill. Your mother wouldn’t want that either.”

Her stomach dropped low and filled with acid. She savagely scratched the skin on her palms until the searing in her chest faded away. Her blood started rushing in her ears, and she knew she was definitely about to have a panic attack, but she didn’t want Rod to see that. All he saw of her was her gaunt face. Maybe he’d heard her scream or cry, but that was it. She didn’t want him to see her at her lowest. So she calmed her breathing, waited until her heart calmed down enough to speak, and then she levelled her gaze with his.

“Deal,” she said shakily. “I’ll try.”

He gave a smile that was genuine, but made Historia angrier. “Good. I only want what’s good for you. I love you, Historia. I really do.”

_Then where were you when it counted?_ She bit on her tongue and kept her words to herself. There was nothing more she could really say, so she bowed her head and then left his study. She could hear Urklyn laughing hysterically in the lounge, probably playing with his mother or something. She headed up to her room before he could see her, because the last thing she needed was to see his youthful, innocent face and be reminded yet again of everything she wasn’t, and what she no longer had.

XxX

It was dark outside, so dark that she could barely see any part of the sky through her open window. Her curtains moved gently against a soft breeze, and it was hot enough that Historia welcomed the slight coolness. She stared out through her open windows, eyes sore and tired, but much too exhausted to even think about sleep.

An entire month had passed by since that awful dream where she’d wanted to jump. She hadn’t dreamt of Ymir since. Not once. She felt lonely and afraid in her absence of Ymir, even though each time she dreamt of her, she woke feeling sad. Ymir was a comfort she didn’t want to have anymore. She didn’t want to need her, this person she wasn’t even sure existed.

Historia blindly brushed her fingertips against the envelope in her lap. _It’s time_ , she thought. _Time to figure out who Ymir is, and if she really is the person I dream of._ Her stomach pulled into tight knots of nervousness, but the open window and the fresh air kept her calm. She had been sitting there on the floor of her bedroom for hours, contemplating the past few months, Ymir, her life, her mother… sometimes it was just all too much.

_It’s time._

She dragged in a weary breath and finally dropped her eyes to the envelope. Her fingers shook gently as she tore the edges open and withdrew the papers inside. They were A5 in size, mostly text but a few pictures.

_Ymir Wikström,_ it said, along with her age, date of birth, nationality, sex and race. Historia had to lick her dry lips and close her eyes to reign in her suddenly galloping pulse. “Relax,” she told herself softly. “She’s just a stranger.”

And yet she did not feel like one. Historia finally built the courage to look at one of the photographs, and her stomach and heart both fluttered. Sweat collected at her temples, a soft trickle down her skin. Her already warm room suddenly felt a lot warmer, making it almost impossible to breathe.

It was Ymir. It was _the_ Ymir _._ Historia’s eyes were wide with shock, elation. She found herself grinning before she could stop it. Hesitantly, she reached out and traced the familiar outline of Ymir’s face. The picture had been taken at Saint Sina, and Ymir didn’t look all too well. The date on the picture was of a few days ago. Once again Historia’s heart fluttered. She went through more of the papers, to find a handwritten one by her father.

‘ _Historia._

_I hope this is the woman you wanted. There are no other registered Ymir’s in Sina. I managed to get more information than I was comfortable with, but so long as you stick to your side of the deal, I don’t mind giving this information over to you. Please do not let this woman know that you have this. I could get into very deep trouble. I had one of my men follow her around a bit, and we have a general schedule of where she goes and when, if you wish to meet her. I hope this is enough._

_Love,  
Father’_

Historia felt like she could hug her father right now, if he’d been in the room. She was glad he wasn’t, though, because she knew she would have been horrified if she had. She carefully scanned the schedule and noted that Ymir had frequent visits to the hospital. There were two addresses as well, one labelled as belonging to her parents and the other to an assumed sibling. The last location of interest was a bar named Three Roses that made Historia’s pulse flutter even harder.

With this, Historia could meet her. This was her Ymir. The only question now, was if Ymir was really having these dreams, too. Historia slipped the papers back into the envelope and shakily climbed into bed. She felt lighter and clearer than she had in months. She was way too keyed up to sleep, so she didn’t. She simply laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of Ymir consuming her whole.

XxX

It took Historia a full week to gather enough courage to go to one of Ymir’s hangouts, and another week to finally actually catch Ymir there. Since she felt going to the home addresses and the hospital was a little creepy, she decided to head to Three Roses instead. It was a more public place, somewhere she could conceivably visit without suspicion. No one had to know that she was actually there to stalk a woman she knew from her dreams.

It was a little over 5 in the afternoon when Historia heard the doors to the bar open, and Ymir walked in. She nearly fell of her chair when she realized that it really was Ymir. But Ymir didn’t seem to notice her, and headed to a table with a group of people. They all greeted her with huge smiles and insults that seemed to be compliments instead of actual insults. She watched them for a long while, too nervous to stand up and introduce herself. Her mind filled with fears, circulating through every single one. Every tick of the clock was a new doubt, a new fear.

_What if she doesn’t know me?_

_What if she isn’t Ymir?_

_What if she knows me, but hates me?_

_What do I say to her?_

_What will she say to me?_

_I love her._

The last thought beat around in her chest, making her heart squeeze and ache like it was ready to give up. She had to clutch at her chest, the fabric of her shirt pulled tight between her quivering fingers. It reminded her of the first time she had met Ymir, in that hospital on that awful day. Ymir had been so nice to her, so kind. Each time they met in her dreams, Ymir had only ever been nice. She had been concerned and gentle and more than that, she seemed to understand a little of what Historia was feeling. Historia craved so badly to have her pain validated in real life, too.

She steeled her nerves and decided to bite the bullet, downing her glass of coke and slamming it down on the counter. _I can do this,_ she told herself. She prepared to twist around and hop off the stool, but then someone stepped in right beside her and Historia froze in place at the familiar scent that assaulted her.

“Another round of drinks!” Ymir yelled happily to the bartender.

Historia gripped into the edge of the table, fingers bleaching white. They were inches apart, so close that Historia could feel her heat, smell her body spray. Ymir was entirely too beautiful so up close, but she didn’t seem to notice Historia at all. Frustration and desperation filled her gut.

Ymir started drumming her fingers on the table, eyes trained forward. Historia waited a beat, two, and then decided that Ymir wasn’t going to look at her. She needed to make herself seen. Shaking violently, heart thundering, she reached out and gripped the edge of Ymir’s leather jacket. Instantly Ymir turned to her, eyes wide. It was a little unnerving to stare into her eyes, so Historia flicked hers away quickly.

“Um, hi Ymir,” she started softly, licking her dry lips. “Do you remember me?”

She carefully looked back up to Ymir’s face, and her heart dropped. Ymir had a brow lifted, but she was frowning. “Er, I don’t think so,” she said. Her brows furrowed. “Should I?”

Historia’s heart started to ache. “You really don’t recognize me?”

Ymir flinched when the bartender slammed a group of glasses down on the table. She handed her money over to him with a smile. “Sorry, lady, I don’t know you.”

Historia’s eyes filled with tears. “Ymir, please!”

Ymir grabbed the glasses in both hands and started backing away, eyes darting down to Historia’s hand on her jacket. “Listen, I’ve never seen you before. I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

Historia shook her head and tightened her hold. “It is you!” she shouted, frantic. “It has to be you!”

Ymir looked torn between angered and worried. “Look, aren’t you a little too young to even be in here?”

“I’m nineteen! You know that!”

Ymir sighed. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know you.”

“Historia,” she hurried. “My name is Historia Krista Reiss. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ymir! What’s the hold up?” someone yelled from Ymir’s table. She glanced over her shoulder towards them, then back to Historia.

“No,” Ymir told her sternly. “I don’t know you. I need to get back to my friends.”

Historia reluctantly let go. Ymir didn’t even hesitate and returned to her friends, who were laughing and joking even before she sat down. Ymir was laughing with them, without a care in the world, as if she hadn’t just shattered Historia’s entire world.

This couldn’t be happening. Was she going crazy? Clearly this wasn’t the Ymir in her dreams. This meant that Ymir wasn’t real. Dream Ymir only existed in her mind, and realizing this made a deep, burning pain strike right through her heart. She stumbled off the stool and rushed for the door. The moment she stepped outside she emptied her stomach on the sidewalk. She convulsed so violently that she could barely stay upright, but she forced herself to walk to her car and drive home. The second she reached her bedroom, she collapsed on top of the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She could hear her own erratic heartbeat.

The tears rushed so violently that she sobbed into the warm air. She turned onto her side and curled into a ball, hands covering her face. She sobbed until she ached, and even then, tears still wet the blanket beneath her head. She grabbed a bottle of pills of her bedside table, dry swallowed a handful of them and then waited for sleep to take her. Maybe if she could dream of Ymir again, this pain would go away.

Maybe dream Ymir could make sense of all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the first big reveal. Prepare to be shooketh


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri as I wrote this chapter and I honest to god almost cried while WRITING. Good luck y'all

Ymir stared up at Historia’s house, stomach tight with anxiety. Her leg was bouncing to an invisible beat and her fingers danced nervously along the surface of her steering wheel. She felt like an absolute creep. This marked day three that she drove out to Historia’s home and simply sat in her car, staring. She’d seen a family arrive home each day, a short man, a woman and a boy. They all looked solemn, and Ymir saw no trace of Historia.

Swallowing, Ymir grabbed hold of the door handle but froze, pulse thrumming. Her nerves got the better of her again, and she decided to leave. She only had an hour lunch, so Hitch wouldn’t appreciate it if she took more time than necessary. She managed to get there just in time, but Hitch still gave her a sour look.

“Where do you go to everyday?” she asked roughly. “You look like you just saw a murder.”

Ymir rolled her eyes and settled in on a stool behind the counter. “That was just me rushing to get back in time,” she said.

Hitch lifted a brow. “Fine, don’t share your deep dark secrets with me.”

She was typing away at the second computer, probably doing orders or something. It was the middle of the week, so they barely had any customers. Ymir discovered that the job was more stock orientated—ordering stock, receiving stock, packing stock. Hitch had also asked her to remerchandise a rack of diving suits. It was actually nice. She got to sit on her ass and do nothing, staring out over the sea outside. The scent of salt was pretty powerful this close to the beach, but three days in and she was already growing accustomed to it. Hitch too.

“I need a drink,” Hitch muttered to herself. Her eyes looked red and bloodshot.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Ymir asked.

Hitch snorted. “Me? Sleep? Never.” She closed whatever she had been doing on the computer and then leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest, and yawned. “Why, are you worried?”

Ymir smothered the urge to grin. Hitch was really growing on her. “You’re my source of income now,” she supplied. “I kind of need you.”

“Aw, and here I thought you simply liked me as a woman.” Her eyes shone mischievously.

Ymir was absolutely sure that Hitch was trying to get into her pants. She flirted quite heavily, and with only the odd customer here and there to distract them, flirting seemed to be all Hitch could do. It was flattering, in all honesty. And part of Ymir was a little disconcerted to find herself flirting back. “You wish.”

“Is there no special lady in your life?” Hitch enquired casually.

Ymir sighed and slumped forward to rest her elbows on the counter. “No. And there won’t be anytime soon. I’m not really interested.”

How would a lover react to the large scar on her chest? It hadn’t really been something she had considered. It just seemed like too much of a hassle, really. Hitch’s clear attraction to her was not entirely unwelcomed, but it would probably never be reciprocated.

Hitch groaned dramatically and then left the counter for the office. “Call me if you’re swamped with customers,” she called out. “I’ve got a nap to catch up on.”

Ymir shook her head and then settled in, prepared to be bored as all hell until they closed.

XxX

Day five. Ymir still hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave the car. She knew she had to. She hadn’t dreamt of Historia in over a month, and she was feeling a strange, constant ache in her heart as a result. And if she was completely honest, she missed her. She missed Historia. She was just incredibly frightened about walking up to that door and not getting the truth that she wanted.

A car pulled in then and Ymir watched Rod—she assumed it was him—climb out of the car. He looked more cheerful than she had seen him in the past few days, and perhaps that gave her the encouragement she needed. She bit down on her tongue, inhaled deeply and then hopped out the car. Rod was reaching into his coat for keys, but he paused when he noticed Ymir approaching. His eyes widened as if he recognized her.

“Good evening,” he greeted, ever polite. “How can I help you?”

Ymir tightly clasped her hands together. Her heart was thundering. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she started. “Are you Rod Reiss?”

He straightened fully and nodded, holding his hand out. “That’s me, yes.”

Ymir shook his hand. “My name is Ymir Wikström. This might sound really strange, but, uh.” She felt almost dizzy with nerves. “Does a Historia Krista Reiss live here?” His eyes went even rounder. “Is it possible that I could maybe meet her?”

Rod gripped onto his suitcase with both hands, lips pressed together. He looked away. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said icily. Any bit of friendliness in his expression from earlier was gone, replaced by a coldness that chilled Ymir to the bone. “Historia passed away six months ago.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Ymir stood there, eyes wide, and stared. Rod merely stared back, almost as if he was waiting for her to say something profound. The front door opened, revealing a beautiful woman. Her eyes were worried.

“Rodrick, is everything alright?”

Rod turned to her with a stiff smile. “Everything is fine, my love,” he said. “A friend of Historia’s came by.”

The woman deflated instantly. Her eyes filled with tears. “A friend?”

Rod turned back to Ymir. “How did you know my daughter? From school?”

Ymir felt like she was in a deep, black hole, falling and falling into an endless pit of nothingness and despair. Rod stared at her, waiting, expecting. She eventually shook her head. “I’m sorry… this…” She swallowed thickly and stumbled backwards. “This was a mistake.”

Rod’s brows furrowed and he was saying something, but a roaring in Ymir’s ears prevented her from hearing anything. She turned and hurried to her car, choking on heavy breaths. When her door was shut, she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and tried to make sense of everything, but the panic was swelling inside of her, threating to burst out of her pores. Before she realized it, she was crying. Horrific, painful sobs that made the scar on her chest ache.

How could Historia be gone? What did this mean? Why did Ymir feel like her entire world had just ended?

“ _Fuck!_ ” she screamed, punching the dashboard. “ _What the fuck? What the **fuck**_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-; hello darkness my old friend 
> 
> PSA: If you're so sad you wanna quit this fic, don't! Trust me. The sad becomes a happy. A very big happy. But the journey there is pretty angsty and fucked up. If you enjoy this sort of emotional torture (as I seem to, apparently) then I hope you enjoy the next chapters in all their angstyness!


	8. Chapter 8

The pills worked, though the dream was completely different this time.

Historia opened her eyes and found herself on a grassy hill in the moonlight. The sky was clear and calm, and any pain she’d felt before was almost entirely gone. She was alone, though, but not for long. She started walking in no particular direction, until she finally spotted a figure prone on the ground. She started running then, heart thudding and fingers clenched into fists. When she reached the person, her breath stuck in her throat.

“Ymir?”

Ymir’s eyes snapped opened. Tears streaked down her face, and before Historia could even let the anger and hurt build up inside of her, Ymir had scrambled onto her knees and pulled Historia down into a tight embrace.

“You’re here,” Ymir breathed against her shoulder. She squeezed hard. Ymir was shaking. “You’re really here.”

Historia’s heart gave a sad throb. “Of course I’m here.” She wanted to pull away and yell, but she felt like Ymir’s pain was about to swallow them both. Her concern and love for Ymir covered everything else. She held on for dear life, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes without her even knowing why. “What’s wrong?”

Ymir just buried her face against Historia’s throat. Her skin was warm. How was it possible to _feel_ anything here? It was just a dream. And yet Ymir felt all too real and warm and alive in her arms, and she wanted this moment to last forever. Ymir’s presence scared the edges of grief away, even though Historia sensed something like grief in every shaky breath Ymir took.

“In this moment, nothing,” Ymir whispered solemnly. “Historia?” She pulled away.

Historia swallowed hard. Ymir’s eyes were really, really beautiful this close, even red and teary. Her lower lip was trembling, so Historia reached out and gently cupped her cheek. “What happened?”

Ymir leaned into her touch, eyes closing. “I…” She sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t matter right now.” Her eyes opened again. Historia started to say something, but then Ymir leaned forward and kissed her, and all thoughts fled from her mind. Historia had often thought about this, about kissing her, being this close to her, but it had never seemed like an actual possibility. Ymir’s lips were soft and salty from her tears, and her kiss wasn’t needy or passionate. It was gentle, sad almost. “I think I love you,” she mumbled against her lips. “Is that strange?”

A laugh bubbled up Historia’s throat. “Considering you don’t remember me in real life, yeah I think it is.”

Ymir pulled away, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I went to see you,” Historia said, sighing. “I… asked my father to help me find you. I went to Three Roses, and you were there with friends, but you didn’t remember me. At all.”

Ymir’s expression darkened and Historia had the sense that Ymir was trying to forget something. “How…?” She looked away. Historia reached out to brush the fresh tears from her face. How unfair it was, to meet someone so magnificent only in her dreams, where she could touch her, but not forever? Not for real. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Historia furrowed her brows at the question. “I went home and cried, took some sleeping pills and went to bed.”

“How many did you take?” Ymir grabbed hold of her upper arms. Strangely, the hold was tight enough to hurt. This dream wasn’t entirely safe.

“Just enough to fall asleep quickly,” Historia responded carefully. “And to maybe feel sick in the morning. Not enough to kill myself, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m still alive. I’m fine, Ymir.”

Ymir smiled at her sadly. She drew them to the ground and pulled Historia into her lap, cradling her firmly in her arms. Ymir looked like she didn’t want to let go.

“Alright,” Ymir breathed softly. “I’ll figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

Ymir lifted a hand and traced the line of her face, from her jaw to her cheek to her brow. When she dipped back down again and lightly caressed her bottom lip, Historia felt a shiver rock down her spine. Ymir was looking at her so tenderly, so carefully, like her world had already stopped spinning and this was the last breath she could take.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ymir told her. “Just be here, with me, right now.”

Historia shivered. She felt like they needed to talk, to say things out loud that she wasn’t aware of yet. She hated these feelings, because she couldn’t understand them. Instead she let Ymir kiss her again, and threaded her fingers through Ymir’s soft brown hair at the base of her neck. Ymir pulled her even closer until their chests were touching, and through that Historia could feel the heartbeat in her chest.

It was a twin rhythm to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a short update while I try to figure out how to place the next sequence of events and get Ymir ready for the next time she's shook :)


	9. Chapter 9

Ymir opened her eyes slowly. Her forehead was burning and her neck ached, and she sat up in her car and wiped the dry tears from her eyes. She must have blacked out at the wheel. It was pitch black outside, no light but for the street lights and the occasional illuminated porch. Ymir pulled her phone out and squinted down at the time. It was a little over ten. There were a couple missed calls from Ilse.

_Shit, we were supposed to have dinner,_ Ymir thought, starting her car and driving away from the Reiss house a little over the speed limit. Her heart still ached and her mind washed with thoughts. Her dream with Historia had been more vivid and real than any other so far. They had kissed, and Ymir remembered it like it had just happened five minutes ago. Her lips even tingled slightly.

How could Historia be dead? It made no sense. What if…? Ymir shut that thought down entirely. She would not go there. Not yet. First she needed to find out what happened to Historia, and go from there. She needed to prove that Historia wasn’t just in her imagination, that the Historia she met in her dreams was real. But how? How on earth was she going to do that?

She arrived home not even remembering the drive there. When she went inside she heard the soft sound of the TV and the kettle boiling in the kitchen. Ilse hurried into the hallway, face pale and eyes wide.

“Ymir! Where the hell were you?”

Behind Ilse Nanaba appeared, looking just as concerned. The way her eyes darted over Ymir’s figure made her feel like she was on the operating table again. She at least flushed darkly in guilt.

“I, um, fell asleep in my car.”

Nanaba’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t pass out, did you?”

_Her heart was thundering, breaths almost barely passing by her lips. She could feel black creeping in on her vision, but her fists just kept tightening around her steering wheel and her heart kept hammering and Historia’s name swirled painfully around her head._

“No.”

Nanaba exhaled. “Good.”

Ilse pulled Ymir into a crushing hug. “God, I was so worried. You weren’t answering your phone and even Hitch didn’t know where you were. I just…”

“I’m sorry.” Ymir rubbed her back softly. “I decided to relax in the car before heading home, and I guess I was just tired.”

Ilse pulled away, eyes shimmering. “You need to call mom. She’s livid. Mum’s ready to kill someone too.”

Ymir sighed softly. “Okay, I will.” She looked towards Nanaba in the kitchen doorway. “By the way, why are you here? Not because of me, I hope.”

Nanaba’s cheeks coloured softly.

“I invited her,” Ilse interjected. There was a quick moment where the two of them stared at each other, conveying something wordless that Ymir realized before they even needed to say it. “We’re… sort of seeing each other.”

Ymir was far too emotionally vacant to give an adequate reaction. So she merely shrugged and went into the kitchen to make a mug of coffee. “Okay,” she threw over her shoulder.

Nanaba dove out of the way, as if she was afraid Ymir would hit her or something—which she really wouldn’t, she happened to really like the doctor—and Ilse followed close behind.

“’Okay’? Just okay? What kind of reaction is that?”

Ymir dumped two teaspoons of coffee and three and a half teaspoons of sugar into her mug. She sighed. “I’m too tired to really care. Does she make you happy?” She looked up to see Ilse’s face and caught her blushing wildly. “That’s all I care about.”

“She does,” Ilse answered softly. “Really happy.”

Nanaba sidled closer and took Ilse’s hand in her own. Ymir smiled. “Then welcome to the family, doctor,” Ymir told Nanaba, winking. “Good luck with that one there.”

“Hey!”

Ymir snorted and poured hot water and milk into her mug. She stirred, took an experimental sip and then trudged into the lounge to plop down on the couch. Half the coffee was drunk before Ymir started falling asleep again. Her eyes slid shut and her head bobbed, and she barely felt it as her mug was slipped out of her fingers and someone settled a blanket over her. She fell into a dead, dark sleep.

XxX

Nanaba made Ilse disgustingly happy. Ymir saw the doctor so often that it was becoming weird. Not only did they have to meet for Ymir’s mandatory check-ups and hospital visits, but Nanaba also visited a handful of times a week, and slept over weekends. Ymir was really starting to consider moving out when they kept her up one night. But Ilse was happy, and that made Ymir happy.

She hadn’t dreamt about Historia again, not since visiting Rod and finding out that Historia was really dead. She missed her, but part of her felt relieved. She was sure the dreams would hurt, and she was still struggling to process everything she had gone through since being diagnosed. That didn’t mean, however, that she forgot about Historia. Far from it. In fact, Ymir thought about her more than ever. She was definitely in love with her.

In love with a dead girl.

She would have laughed at herself if it didn’t bring her close to tears.

A couple weeks after that awful discovery, Nanaba was over for dinner and they all sat in the lounge, eating. Ymir wasn’t in the best mood, having had an oddly busy day at work, daydreaming vividly about Historia and also barely eating. She moved her food around on her plate with her fork, but didn’t lift anything to her mouth. Ilse noticed, but didn’t comment. She could probably sense her mood.

After dinner Ilse left them to take a shower, and that left Ymir and Nanaba alone together in the room. Ymir could feel Nanaba’s curious stare, but she ignored it and stared at the TV. An advert was playing for some brand of toothpaste, showing a short, beautiful blonde girl and her sparkling white teeth. It made Ymir think of Historia, and her heart ached badly. She rubbed a hand over her scar without thinking about it, wincing slightly. The pain was both emotionally and physically piercing.

“Scar giving you trouble?” Nanaba spoke up from her seat.

Ymir’s eyes flicked to her. “No.” She realized where her hand was and quickly dropped it.

“Your heart, then? Does it hurt?”

There was no lying. Nanaba had that look on her, the one that Ymir recognized as her doctor face. There was no getting out of this without a somewhat honest answer. “A little,” she admitted.

“Since when? How bad is it?”

“Not that bad. It’s not…” She took a nervous breath. “It’s not my heart. It’s… more emotional.”

Nanaba’s face went blank for a second, and then understanding dawned. “Broken heart then?” she asked. “And not literally this time?”

Ymir snorted. “I don’t even know how to begin explaining it.”

Nanaba scooted closer and straightened, clasping her hands together on her lap. “Try me.”

Should she do it? She trusted Nanaba with, well, with her life. Maybe Nanaba would think she was crazy, maybe she wouldn’t. It would lift a weight off her shoulders to finally tell someone about Historia and the dreams, to have it spoken out loud, to become real. Her heart starting jerking and aching, and she winced again, but her decision was made.

“There’s this girl,” Ymir finally started, nervously breathy and hands shaking. “I’ve been dreaming about her ever since my surgery. At first I just thought they were dreams, but then I realized that… they’re more than that. And now I can’t stop thinking about her, and I think I love her, but I’ve only known her in my dreams, and I don’t know what to do. My heart and soul hurts and it’s destroying me from the inside out.”

Nanaba nodded slowly. “So you’re saying you’ve been dreaming about a girl, and you think you love this girl?”

Ymir’s cheeks warmed. She knew she sounded crazy. “Yeah. I know it sounds nuts, and hell, sometimes I really think I’ve gone crazy. But she… she is a real person. She exists.” She paused, breath catching in her throat. Tears burnt the back of her eyes. “Existed,” she corrected. “She was a real person.”

Nanaba’s eyes widened. “What was her name?”

Ymir bit down on her lip. “Historia.”

The expression on Nanaba’s face was weird then—shock and understanding. None of the disbelief Ymir had expected. “Historia Reiss?” she asked, so carefully that Ymir suddenly became worried.

“How did you know that?”

Nanaba opened her mouth, but then her phone rang and she quickly pulled it out of her pocket. She shot Ymir an apologetic look and turned away to answer it. “Dr Reber,” she said softly. Ymir’s heart was beating hard, echoing loudly in her ears. She waited, almost breathless, as Nanaba spoke softly and then ended the call. “I need to head out soon,” she said. “A patient isn’t doing so well.”

Ymir swallowed. Her mouth was dry. “How did you know Historia Reiss?”

Nanaba stared down at her feet for a second, face thoughtful. Finally she looked up. “Her mother was sick,” she said, face grim, “for a long time. I was their doctor for years. Historia’s mother passed away, and I tried to be there for her. As far as I know, she went to live with her father.”

Ymir clenched her hands into fists. Her fingers were shaking badly. “Did I get...?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She felt sick.

Nanaba stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “The day Historia passed,” she said, pausing for a long while, “Was the day you finally got your new heart.”

Ymir stared forward. A distant roaring started to echo in her ears. “These dreams of Historia are so real,” she said, tears building inside of her. “How can they be so real? Because I…?” She covered her mouth with her hand. The tears spilled then. Nanaba dropped down and wrapped her up in a hug.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “You do. But please, don’t feel guilty. You didn’t take her life. She saved yours. She gave you her heart, Ymir.”

Ymir started laughing then. The pained, deranged sort of laugh. “Am I dreaming about her because I have her heart?”

“You could be. People sometimes go through stuff like this with transplants. Memories, emotions, habits. Sometimes they carry over from the donor. We can’t yet explain it.”

Ymir heard Ilse’s footsteps in the hallway and hurriedly wiped her face clean. She knew her eyes were red, and her nose was running, but she had at least stopped crying. Nanaba hurried to Ilse to tell her that she needed to leave, and Ymir sat there and gathered her thoughts.

_I’ve lost my heart to this girl,_ she thought bitterly, laughing again. _But it’s her heart to begin with. She’s dead. Goddamnit, she’s really dead and I have her heart._

Ymir shakily got onto her feet and went to her room. Sleep pulled heavily on her limbs, and without a struggle she succumbed to it. She vaguely wondered if she would dream of Historia again.

XxX

It felt like ages had passed when Ymir opened her eyes and found a purple sky above her, swirling with vivid oranges and pinks. The sky almost looked angry, but she felt strangely calm. When she sat up, she discovered she was nestled warmly in a hammock, and it jostled violently as she attempted to climb out of it.

“Hey Ymir.”

She turned, heart soaring in happiness, to find Historia standing on the porch beside her, smiling tiredly. “Hey,” Ymir responded, the word sounding more like a croak. She flushed in embarrassment.

Historia’s smile widened and she took Ymir’s hand in her own, pulling her to the porch steps where they sat down together. Historia’s skin was warm, and where they were pressed together Ymir could feel the soft thud of her pulse.

“It’s been a while,” Historia told her. Deep sadness laced her words. “I missed you.”

Ymir tightened her hold on Historia’s hand. “I know. I’m sorry. I missed you too.”

This felt all too strange. Ymir knew that Historia was dead, that logically she shouldn’t be able to feel her warmth and her pulse and smell the flower-y, clean scent of her; that she was fast asleep, her physical body in her bed, but her mind was elsewhere. Where was this? Was this really just a dream, or was she going someplace else?

“I thought that I wouldn’t see you again,” Historia confessed in a small, defeated voice. “Today I just… I lost it, I guess. Urklyn and Rod were playing in the garden, and he sounded so happy, and Rod’s wife kept bugging me to join them, and I snapped and screamed at her. I made Urklyn cry. He’s such a good kid, he doesn’t deserve a terrible sister like me. I don’t know how to process my emotions anymore. I just keep it all in until I break. You’re the only one who can put me back together.”

Ymir frowned deeply. “Historia, I feel like this dream is going to end soon.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why do you keep apologizing?”

Ymir looked deeply into her eyes. She felt tempted to tell her— _you’re dead, Historia, and I have your heart. You died and they put your heart in me to save my life._ But she wasn’t certain of anything yet, and she first needed a plan, first needed to understand where she was and why she was there. So instead she settled on an idea, and gave Historia a small smile.

“No reason. I need you to do something for me.”

Historia tilted her head, like a curious puppy. She was adorable. “Anything you need.”

“Can you send me a message?”

Historia furrowed her brows. “Like, send an SMS?”

Ymir nodded. “I want you to write a letter to me.”

Historia looked away, nibbling on her lower lip. “Can I ask why?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay. How do you want me to send it to you?”

“Give it to your father, and tell him to give it to me.”

Historia’s head whipped around again. Questions swam in her eyes, but she didn’t ask any of them. Instead she nodded, and then she leaned her head against Ymir’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “When?”

“Tell him to give it to me July 5th.” She paused, took a breath. “2017.”

Historia pulled away to look at her. “That’s...” Historia paused and studied her face intently. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll write a letter for you. But what is the point?”

Ymir flashed a small, fake smile. “I’m not really sure, not yet,” she said.

If the letter really reached her… what would that mean?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mentions of suicidal thoughts

Ymir woke the next day with her stomach tied in knots. Her muscles ached and her scar stung, and she barely ate anything before she decided to skip the rest of breakfast and head to work early. Her dream with Historia the previous night was still fresh on her mind, and when she unlocked her phone and stared at the date, she felt sick to her stomach.

It was July 5th.

This was all absolutely crazy. Historia Reiss was a stranger, a girl that had died tragically and who had donated her heart. Ymir had simply received that heart, and all the dreams afterwards were just… just dreams. There was no way Ymir was going to get that letter. Everything she had experienced with Historia had been in the space of her mind, something brought on by the organ in her chest. Ymir couldn’t know what Historia had been thinking and feeling during the last moments of her life, but clearly her emotions had been strong enough to somehow carry on. It was painful and frustrating to think, but it was less frightening than the alternative.

Rod Reiss stood in the parking lot by Ymir’s work, leaning against the side of his car and staring out across the water. Ymir’s heart leapt into her throat when she saw him, and she almost didn’t pull into a parking space, almost kept driving past. Hitch’s car was there, so she was at work already. Ymir sat in her car for a long moment, staring at her hands, heart pounding. Her vision blurred for a second, but she forced herself to calm down. Surely he wasn’t here to…

“Ymir?”

She jumped in her seat, a hand flying up to her chest. Rod stared at her through the window, deep creases slashed across his forehead. Ymir felt stupid for sitting there, so she shoved her car keys into her pocket and climbed out of the car. Her hands were shaking badly.

“Mr Reiss,” she greeted him stiffly, not offering her hand. “What can I do for you today?”

Part of her hoped… the other part was terrified.

Rod turned away from her, almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. That was fine with her. He shoved both hands into his pockets and released a soft, weary breath. “I told myself this was crazy,” he said. His voice was thick with emotion. “I didn’t understand it at the time. I still don’t. But maybe…” He paused. “Maybe you can explain it to me.” He held his hand out. Clutched between his fingers was a letter. “It’s for you.”

Ymir swallowed and shakily pulled the envelope from his hand. Rod didn’t say any more, and he must have judged from her expression that she knew who it was from, what it meant. She carefully opened the flap and glanced inside. Sure enough, a neatly folded paper sat within, waiting. She closed the flap and tilted her head back, eyes shut tight.

“ _Fuck,_ ” she hissed. Her heart gave a hard squeeze, almost as if it was punishing her for not immediately reading the letter. She clutched at her chest and stumbled backwards against her car. When her eyes opened, Rod had his hands reaching out towards her, but he hadn’t touched her. Concern filled his expression.

“You know that it’s from her,” he said, eyes narrowing. “You knew you were going to get this letter.”

Ymir straightened and clutched at the roof of her car for support. “Sorta.”

Rod wiped a hand over his face. “I haven’t read it,” he said. “Historia, she… she made me promise to give this to you. Before she… the day before the accident, she gave this letter, and gave a date. I just didn’t understand it. But after the accident, and after she passed, I remembered the letter. When you showed up at my place, I was frightened out of my mind. Tell me, please. What does all of this mean? How do you know my daughter? Did you meet with her before her accident?”

Ymir shook her head. “No, only once. And that once I didn’t remember her.”

“Then why…?” He glanced at her hand, at the letter. “Is that…?” He couldn’t seem to bring himself to continue. His face contorted and then he buried it in his hands, shoulders silently shaking. Ymir wanted to do something for him, but she knew that nothing she could say or do would take his pain away. If she tried to explain this; that she dreamt about Historia, that she had Historia’s heart, it wouldn’t help him. “Is that a suicide letter?” he finally choked out.

Ymir’s eyes widened and her heart jerked. Rod’s blue eyes were burning and wet with tears when he finally looked up at her. Ymir opened her mouth, but no words came out. She couldn’t say no. She had no idea. What… what had happened to Historia? What made him think she would have taken her life?

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I can’t explain any of this, either. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Please, try.”

She blew out a long breath. “Trust me, I don’t even believe myself.”

“My daughter was in a dark place back then, I knew that. I just never thought… I never expected to lose her. I always thought she would be burying me, not the other way around. She was so young… she was only nineteen.” He wobbled closer and leaned against the car beside her, tears streaming down his face. Ymir finally reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What happened to her?”

“You don’t know?”

Ymir pressed the letter against her tummy. “I don’t.”

Rod inhaled. “The day she gave me that letter,” he started, softly, voice filled with emotion, “was the day before she got into that accident. It was over two years ago.”

Ymir furrowed her brows. “But you said she passed away seven months ago.”

Rod nodded. “She did. She was in a coma after the accident, and seven months ago we switched her life support off. It was… the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make.” He started sobbing again, tiny, pitiful sobs with tears rushing down his cheeks. “Her condition wasn’t getting any better,” he said. “The doctors said that she wouldn’t make it, that she would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. But I hoped, I hoped and prayed so hard that she would wake up one day. But then her body just stopped trying. I don’t know if her soul gave up, or what. She wasn’t going to wake up. I had to do it.”

Ymir gave his arm a pat. She wanted to hug him, but that would be awkward. How could she hug this grown man, when his daughter’s own heart was beating in her chest? “What was the accident?”

Rod straightened and wiped the tears off his face. He sniffed heavily and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “She was hit by a truck,” he answered. “On her way home from going out with friends. Witnesses said she stepped into the road and didn’t see the truck, and the driver said it all happened too quickly for him to stop in time.”

Ymir’s fingers were quivering. “You think she stepped in front of the truck on purpose?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. The last month or so, she was so deeply depressed. Ever since her mother passed she was depressed, but I thought it would pass. She was grieving. _I_ was grieving. I did care for her mother, and I know that Historia hated me. I was never there for her in a way that she really needed. I don’t know what happened to make her depression so bad.”

Ymir’s stomach rolled. If… if the dreams were real, and this letter was what she requested… what the fuck did this mean? Guilt started to build up inside of her, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. Grief and pain came over her, so overwhelming that she clapped a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. Rod heard the soft noise she released, and his eyes widened when he noted her tears. His actions weren’t hesitant this time. He pulled her in for a hug and squeezed her hard. Ymir didn’t know this man—not at all. Historia had spoken briefly of him in their dreams, but never for long. But he was the only link Ymir had to Historia now, and it all hurt so goddamn much.

“You cared about her,” Rod said softly.

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and tried to force the tears back inside. “I love her,” she confessed brokenly. “So much, and it hurts so much. I don’t know what to do.”

Rod gently stroked her back. “Tell me what happened. You said I wouldn’t believe you, why? What happened that I would think you’re crazy?”

Ymir pulled away from him, sniffing loudly and wiping her tears off. “I was the recipient,” she spat out. Rod stared at her, and then realization dawned and his eyes widened. “I got Historia’s heart seven months ago.” The words felt like a slap, and she watched Rod flinch. He wasn’t backing away, though.

“Historia was insistent,” he said. “When her mother passed, she said she wanted to be an organ donor. I told her that she would be old and grey by the time she was ready to donate her organs, but she laughed at me and said accidents happen.” He sighed.

Ymir reigned in her emotions as much as she could. She had never been such a crier. Only since receiving Historia’s heart, did she feel so much. Historia must have been a very kind person. Ymir could just feel it. “After getting this heart, I started to dream about Historia,” Ymir started hesitantly. “I had never met her before this. At first I just thought they were dreams. Historia was so depressed and tortured. From the first moment I met her, I wanted to protect her.”

Rod furrowed his brows. “So you only know her from these dreams?”

Ymir nodded. “But she knew me when she was alive, didn’t she?”

He nodded. “She asked me to find you.”

“She did. But I didn’t know her. Because over two years ago, I hadn’t met her at all. It was before my long hospital stay.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Last night I dreamt about Historia again, and I asked her to write a letter to me, and to give it to you to give to me.” He stared at her. “The date I gave was today.”

Rod started shaking his head, mouth opening to say something, but no words came out. He thought she was mad, but he also believed it. As illogical as it was, it was the only logical explanation for why two people who had never actually met, knew each other so well.

“This makes no sense,” Rod said. “Are you telling me that you now have been in Historia’s dreams two years ago?”

“I think so. I don’t know. It all depends on what this letter says. If this letter is what I requested, then yeah. I’ve been somehow going into Historia’s dreams, two years in the past. I don’t know why this is happening.”

They both stared at the letter then. Ymir was scared. Her heart ached, and she missed Historia. More than anything she just wanted to wake up and have never received this heart, for Historia to have never been taken off of life support, or to have never been in an accident. All she could do now, though, was read this letter. She could figure out the rest afterwards.

She flipped the envelope flap and pulled the paper out. The scent of lavender washed up at her, and she immediately knew that that was Historia. Her throat tightened up. She unfolded the paper, handling it as though it was a fragile diamond. Rod stepped closer and glanced at the lines of text.

“That’s definitely her handwriting.”

Ymir swallowed. So, this was definitely written by Historia.

“ _Dear Ymir_ ,” she started, reading out loud for Rod’s benefit—and secretly, her own. “ _Last night you asked me to write a letter to you, so this is it, a letter. To You._ _I don’t understand the true purpose of this letter, or any of this, to be honest. Are you even real? You came to me in my dreams when I really needed a shoulder to cry on, and you picked me up when I fell the hardest._

_I love you._

_Wow. This turned into a love letter, I guess. I just can’t help it. As confused as I am, one thing I’m sure of is that I love you. I want to know you, so I’ve decided that as soon as I can, maybe tomorrow, I’m going to track you down again and introduce myself. Maybe you’ll remember me then, or maybe you won’t, and we can just get to know each other again._

_I still struggle, you know? I rely so much on seeing you in the dreams, but they’ve been happening so little lately. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I treat my family terribly and I think I’m even failing at school. The worst thing? Everyone can see that I’m falling apart, but no one knows how to help me. I don’t think anyone can. No one but you._

_And that’s totally not me blackmailing you or anything. That would be messed up. You have no obligation to even be there for me. It’s just that… For some reason you make my heart beat a thousand times faster. The dreams feel so real. Your skin is warm, you smell so nice and your kiss… it still haunts me, that kiss. I want to be with you. It hurts me so badly that I can only see you in the dreams, the you that knows me and loves me._

_This turned into a letter-long ramble, I’m sorry. I’ve been extra tired today, but I somehow feel like things might be better. I think I should talk to Rod._

_My dad. He’s my dad. Sigh._

_He cares about me. I want to know why he left my mother when she needed him most. I feel like my perception of what happened isn’t the correct one, that I was biased due to my loyalty to my mother. He isn’t a bad man. He loves his wife and his son, and he even loves me. I can see it. He tries, and I just keep shooting him down._

_Sometimes I think about ending my life. It’s not like, an all-consuming thought. Sometimes the pain just becomes too much, and when I’m curled up in a ball on the floor of my room, I just want the suffering to end. But then I think about you, Ymir. All the things you told me, how you almost didn’t have a life to live, and I think that committing suicide would be such a selfish thing to do. The brave thing, the right thing, is to keep going, keep trying. You inspire me to put one foot in front of the other._

_So starting tomorrow, I’m going to start interacting with the people that care about me. I’m going to treat Urklyn better, I’m going to ask my father for help for my depression. I want to tell him about you, too. About all the dreams. I want him to tell me about mother, from before I was born._

_Eren invited me to the mall with them after school. Normally I’d say no, but this is me, trying to be a better person, so I said yes. We’re gonna go there right after school. I’ll talk to father when I get home._

_I don’t understand why you wanted this letter so far into the future, because today is only September 1 st, 2015. It doesn’t really make sense. But when did the dreams ever?_

_With love,  
Historia._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so easy to look at a situation when you're young, and think you have the whole thing down and understood. But when you grow up, when you start talking to people, you realize that there are so many sides to a story. This chapter made me pretty sad, reminding me about my gran and other stuff from the past. But I think the story is going to get a bit wild now, as Ymir tries to figure out why this is happening and what she's meant to do. Comments are always welcome, and thank you so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

The Reiss home was huge. Rod had an entire room dedicated to his book collection, and it honestly looked like a professional library. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves stacked to the brim with new and old books. He was nice enough to let Ymir peruse them while he sat as his desk by the window, his face in his hands. Ymir wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Rod lifted his head to glance at her. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, and Ymir knew that just like her, he hadn’t been able to sleep properly. A week had gone by after reading the letter, and Ymir hadn’t had another dream of Historia. Rod was waiting for it, though. He wanted her to open her mouth and say she’d seen Historia again.

“We need to make sense of this.”

She turned back to the books, frowning. “How do you even know that what I’m saying is the truth?”

“What cause do you have to lie?”

“People have all sorts of reasons for making things up.” Her hand paused on a soft leather-bound book. She traced the letters on the spine. “I can’t even explain why this is happening. Why I’ve been able to have these dreams about Historia.”

“Can’t you see?” He stood abruptly, sending his chair flying back into the wall. “There is a reason for everything! I don’t believe things happen by chance. You have travelled back into Historia’s dreams for a reason.”

Ymir froze. “Life is not scripted.” She clenched her teeth together. “Things don’t happen for a _reason_. They just happen. There’s no higher power, no meaning. Historia was not _put_ in that accident. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You must feel it too.”

Ymir turned and leaned against the books, arms crossed over her chest. “What are you implying?”

They stared at each other for a long time. Ymir dared him to say it. “Save her,” he finally begged, voice but a whisper. “Tell her not to go to the mall, tell her about the accident. Please, Ymir. Save her life. You have the power to do this!”

“You want me to change the past?”

“Why not! You’ve most likely already changed our timeline since the first time you met her in a dream.”

Just trying to think of the logistics of this made her temples throb. Her chest felt heavy and sore. “I’m not a hero,” she spat. “You can’t put that kind of expectation on me.”

“What will you lose by simply trying? Will you at least think about it?”

Her resolve weakened. “I don’t know if I can even do anything.”

“You need to try, please.”

Ymir looked out through the window. The view led to the backyard, and Urklyn was happily playing on a tire swing. His mother was close by, sitting on a bench and reading.

“Historia wrote this letter the day before she got into that accident,” she said. “I haven’t dreamt about her at all this week. We might not even have a chance.”

Rod’s eyes were that of a desperate father. He would do anything for this, Ymir realized. He would offer anything and give anything. He opened his mouth, shut it, cast his eyes downwards. “Please,” he said simply, defeated.

Ymir blew out a short breath and pushed away from the bookcase. She headed to the door. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she told him. “I’m not some superhero.”

She heard him take in a deep breath, but she didn’t look back to see his face. That would make her feel even worse. Mrs Reiss was just entering through the back door when Ymir passed by her, and she expressed her surprise that Ymir was leaving so soon. Ymir smiled at Urklyn’s excited shout of farewell, and then she let herself out. The drive home had never been so solemn.

XxX

“What do you think about time travel?”

Ilse stopped stirring the mince and turned to stare at her. “That’s quite the odd question.”

“I think it’s a really interesting concept,” Nanaba offered. “But definitely too sci-fi.”

Ymir bit down on her lip. “But if it was real? Would you use it?”

Nanaba tapped her fingers on the counter top. “Well, that all depends on how time really works. How would time itself be affected by travelling through it and changing things? Will the timeline simply accommodate the change, will we break the original timeline into two new timelines, thus creating alternative realities? It’s a tough thing to consider. I’m not sure I’d be willing to bear the risks of changing time.”

Ymir turned away from them. “I guess.”

“Why are you so interested in time travel?” Ilse asked her. “I saw your search history on my laptop.”

Ymir snorted. “Just a new interest, I guess.”

Nanaba smiled at her. “Sounds like a cool one.”

Ymir tried to smile back, but it felt fake on her face. She shrugged and sat back in her chair. “Sure.”

They didn’t bring it up again.

XxX

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three-hundred-and-thirty-six hours. Time seemed to crawl and crawl since Ymir had read that damn letter. She was too afraid to sleep, so scared that she would dream one last dream, and it would be too late. But whatever sleep she managed to find were all dreamless. Why wasn’t she dreaming of Historia again? There must have been a reason that all of this was happening. It was all too real.

Ymir sometimes wondered if she was just going crazy, but the letter existed. The letter was written at a time period where she had never even met Historia. Had never known that this beautiful, wonderful person even existed. There was no other logical explanation for how the fuck Historia had followed a request to write a letter to Ymir before they’d even met.

Not that they actually would have met, with death a little thing between them.

Ymir sat in her room in the dark, a glass of water between her fingers. She felt like she was dangling on a precipice, so close to the edge, to an answer, but she didn’t know how to take that plunge. There was something that she needed, she could feel it in her blood, but what was it?

_I miss Historia._

She needed Historia.

_Can I really save her?_

Where was Historia in all of this? Was there a heaven? Was she somewhere, aware and watching?

_I need to save her._

Ymir turned the glass around in her hands. The water sloshed softly inside. On her bedside table sat a bottle of pills, and she stared at them with apprehension. Sleep wasn’t easy anymore.

_I’ll do it. I’ll try._

She swallowed three pills in one go and downed all the water. She climbed into bed then, and laid there staring up at the ceiling. She counted the seconds as they ticked up, matched them with the beating of her heart, of Historia’s heart. She felt an odd warmth in her chest, tingling along her scar, and then her vision began to waver and she slipped into an easy, deep sleep.

XxX

This was a dream.

“Ymir?”

She was at the hospital, but in a room she didn’t recognize. It was late afternoon, with burning orange light spilling through parted curtains. The sounds of shuffling feet, hurried voices and ringing phones filled her ears, but this was all a dream.

“Ymir, dear, can you look at me?”

Ymir’s attention snapped to the centre of the room. There sat a woman, small and thin and frail in a hospital bed. She had beautiful, kind blue eyes that Ymir would recognize anywhere.

“Where is Historia?”

The woman smiled brightly. It looked far too alive and joyful on her otherwise gaunt face. “She’s not here. This dream is for us this time.”

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am, dear, and why I’m here.”

Ymir swallowed. She could feel the warmth from the descending sun, smell the antiseptic scent of the hospital. Her senses felt overwhelmed, but it was just a dream. “Historia’s mother,” Ymir whispered. “Am I right?”

The woman—Historia’s mother—smiled again. “You can call me Alma. Yes, I am Historia’s mother. And I’m the reason you’ve been having these dreams.”

Ymir shakily took a seat on the chair beside the bed. “This is all you?”

“All me. I imagine you have quite a few questions, and I’m willing to answer them all. But do hurry, there isn’t enough time left.”

Ymir furrowed her brows. Questions filled her mind, stumbling and twirling over each other, but there was one that stood out among the many, that echoed around in her chest. “Can I save Historia’s life?”

Alma gave a mischievous grin. “That is the right question to the right answer. You have proven yourself tenfold. I am so lucky fate chose you, Ymir.”

“Fate? Chose?”

“You could say that life isn’t quite as unplanned as you think. Not everything is foreseen. Life is too grand and complicated to script all of it. But sometimes certain events can be manipulated, altered, prevented.”

“Can I really go back and stop the accident?”

“No.” Alma shook her head. She looked healthier now. The light was slowly diminishing, but her eyes were becoming brighter, her skin pinker. Where her skin sagged, it started to fill in. She started to look strong again, younger. “You can’t prevent the accident. That is an event that needs to take place. To change that would change too much. Time is like a game of dominos, forever falling and effecting everything around it.”

Ymir exhaled harshly. “Then why make me have these dreams? Why choose me? Why any of this?”

Alma pulled the blanket aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Ymir stood, and she did too, but Alma only came to her chest. When Alma tipped her head back to smile up at her, she looked so much like Historia. “Why does anything happen, really? It just does. But life had it that you inherited her heart, and that made my job a lot easier. You could say I found an opening and bent the rules a little. You can’t stop Historia from getting into that accident, Ymir, but you can do something else.”

Ymir’s heart felt like it stopped. Her ears rang and her nose burnt. Black started to creep in on her vision, and for a second she felt like she had no balance. “What do you want me to do?”

Alma placed a warm hand on her arm, steadying her. “You’ve been here too long. You need to go back.”

“Go back? To where?”

“To life. To your body. To reality. I need you to do one simple thing, Ymir. Just one thing, and this can all mean so much more.”

Ymir nodded. Her sight was starting to go, and her skin tingled badly all over. A piercing pain started at the back of her skull. She almost couldn’t hear anymore, but Alma pulled her down and whispered into her ear.

Ymir managed to hear the gist of it, her stomach pulling tight, heart thudding in horror before she was violently thrown backwards into a sea of black, where not even her voice could pass through the seal of her lips.

She heard Alma’s request in her mind, knew that she had no choice but to do it, and she woke up with tears streaming down her face.


	12. Chapter 12

Ymir sat idly and stared out over the crashing waves. It was much windier today, and she could hear the roaring of the water all the way from her seat in the shop. People were out surfing, some were laying on the warm sand. It was an unusually busy day for their beach, but the shop itself wasn’t all that busy. They’d had two guys come in right after they opened, but after buying stuff to maintain their surf boards, they’d left. Ymir wished they could be busy, just so that she could get her mind somewhere else.

“You okay there, champ?”

Ymir turned to stare blankly at Hitch in her office doorway. “Huh?”

Hitch furrowed her brows and sauntered over. “Whoa, you look really out of it. Have been for weeks now. What’s wrong?”

One thing about Hitch that Ymir had discovered early on, was that she was a very self-centred person. She wasn’t bad, she just tended to care about herself above others. She also tended to think she was funnier and sexier than she actually was. But the concern in her voice was sincere this time, and Ymir didn’t like how close Hitch leaned towards her.

She cleared her throat. “Just have a lot going on,” she answered vaguely, honestly. It felt good to not lie about it, even if she was keeping certain details to herself.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Hitch hummed and looked away. Ymir could sense frustration from her, but she didn’t have the current emotional depth to care. It was a struggle to care about anything anymore, anything that wasn’t… well…

Alma’s words echoed in her head.

She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the sound of the waves. Anything to drown out the ringing in her ears and the pain in her heart.

Two weeks since that dream with Alma. She had avoided Rod, avoided Ilse and Nanaba for all their concerned questions. That night she had woken screaming, and it had taken Nanaba holding her down to stop her. She could still remember the feel of that inky, black abyss. It almost felt like… like… death.

“You really look like you’re about to cry or something.”

Ymir sighed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Not in the mood, Hitch.”

“When are you ever?”

Hitch sidled closer. The warmth of her body blazed across Ymir’s side, making her spine straighten. “So, I’ve been thinking. We get along great. You’re really easy on the eyes. Would you like to go out with me?”

Ymir turned fully to face her, eyes wide in shock. This was the last thing she expected Hitch to ask her. Was she this shallow? This self-absorbed? No… Ymir narrowed her eyes. Hitch wasn’t a bitch. She did care, and when she did, she _cared._ There was a rhyme and a reason to everything Hitch did, even when it was meant to look more lukewarm than it was.

Ymir opened her mouth, but her words got stuck in her throat. Her emotions reared up inside of her and refused to let her go. Hitch took her shaken silence as a positive response, because she started to lean in then, going slowly and carefully and giving Ymir every opportunity to push her away. Ymir didn’t. Curiosity sparked inside of her, as well as desperation. When their lips touched, it was warm and soft. Hitch inhaled like the contact shocked her, but Ymir felt nothing.

She gently pushed Hitch away from her, cheeks flaming. “No.”

Hitch swallowed loudly. “Why not? You’re single, right?”

“I am. But no.”

Ymir felt her scar begin to burn. She pressed a hand there and bit down hard on her tongue until she tasted blood. Why did Hitch’s kiss have to taste like nothing? Why could Ymir only think about Historia’s lips and the way they felt like sweet electricity?

“Just… tell me why, please.”

She was genuinely hurt. Ymir hated this. It complicated things. What was so great about her that Hitch had to develop feelings for her? She liked the way their professional relationship had somehow bordered friendship. Now they had kissed and it would be awkward.

Ymir straightened and looked towards the water again. “There’s someone,” she confessed quietly. Her heart tingled. “Was, someone. She’s dead now.”

Hitch took a step away. “Ymir I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. I never told you.”

“I just… I figured you were just an emo or something.”

Ymir snorted. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Hitch sighed. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Can you forgive me? Can you… forget this happened?”

Ymir sent her a sad smile. “I’m sorry that I can’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, that’s the last thing I care about right now. No wonder you’ve been so zoned out these past few weeks. Ymir, how long has it been since… um…?”

Ymir pressed her lips together. “Couple months,” she answered. Her mind rushed with all her memories of Historia, everything she knew and what she had been told. “Feels like years though.”

Hitch retreated to her office, and an hour later Ymir found a fresh coffee on the counter for her. She hadn’t heard anyone put it there, but an attached note stated it was from Hitch, and with it was an apology. She drank the coffee, scribbled an assurance that it was alright on the cup, and then packed up for the day and left. She shut the store behind her, but Hitch was still in her office.

The drive home was silent. It started to rain.

When she got home, Ilse had left a note on the fridge. They were out having dinner somewhere, leftovers in the fridge. Ymir tossed the note in the dustbin and shoved a plate in the microwave to warm. She wasn’t really that hungry, but she needed to eat, to keep her strength up.

While she ate, she thought. The dream with Alma still puzzled her. Alma had answered many of her question, but now she had just as many new ones. She knew _what_ to do, but could she really? There was so much to still consider.

 _If I do as Alma asked then… then that means I’ll save Historia._ She took a large swallow of water. It was cold as it slid down her throat. _But then that means…_ She turned in her chair, stared out at the thick clouds outside. It was almost too dark to see them, but sparks of lightning illuminated them, and Ymir felt uneasy. _That I won’t get this heart. If I don’t get this heart…_

She finished up, washed all her dishes and went to her room. Ilse might sleep by Nanaba, so Ymir had the whole house to herself for the night. What to do?

Her hands were shaking badly when she climbed underneath her covers. She already knew what she was going to do. Somehow, almost out of nowhere, she had grown to truly and fully love Historia Reiss. It wasn’t even farfetched to imagine that she would give her own life up just to save Historia’s.

Ymir longed to hear her voice, to touch her skin. She longed to live beside her, breathe the same air as her. But she knew, if she did this, there was a possibility that she couldn’t. Alma hadn’t given her all the answers, but they were vague enough to give Ymir enough space to guess. She was terrified. She could really do this, and she could…

Historia would live. That was the important thing. That was all that Ymir truly cared about. Nothing else mattered. Her feelings transcended death and time. Her feelings had brought her to Historia, to the person that had saved her life. Ymir figured it was poetic. Historia had given her a second chance. Now it was Ymir’s turn.

She just had to be willing to make a sacrifice.

Because if she saved Historia, what else made sense than for Ymir to die in her place?

She rested back and closed her eyes, fingers trembling, breaths rasping in and out between her dry lips. She tried not to think too hard, to block everything out, but it was difficult. She knew that darkness she had woken from was death, and it was frightening. It wasn’t pain or fear or _anything._ It was nothing. Complete, utter _nothing._

Sleep started to take her. Before her eyes fell heavy, she knew that she was entering a dream. She could hear sounds trickling in, laughter, cars rushing by. She heard the scuffing of feet and felt the softness of a breeze.

Her body tensed and her heart squeezed hard, but she forced herself to relax. She thought about Historia, about her beautiful smile and those bright, blue eyes and then she allowed the dream to fully take her.

When Ymir opened her eyes, she was in the dream. It was daytime. In the distance she could see high school kids walking and laughing amongst themselves. At her back was a busy road. Ymir turned, fingers quivering.

This was where the accident happened.


	13. Chapter 13

This wasn’t at all like the other dreams. Yes, many of them had felt startlingly real, but they had always still felt like dreams, had looked like dreams. But this… _this was not a dream_.

Ymir’s heart thundered frantically in her chest. Cars whistled by and people chattered nearby, and she knew without a doubt that she was physically, literally in the past. This was reality that she was standing in, and she was frightened.

She knew from pictures that this was the street where Historia was struck by a speeding truck. The fact that this was happening now, like this, made Ymir realize that this was the last dream. Whatever happened after this, it would be over forever. Either she would wake up, having failed, or she would succeed and not wake up. She wasn’t certain which one frightened her most.

A loud, obnoxious laugh startled Ymir out of her panic, and she whirled around in time to notice a group of cackling students walking right towards her. She closed her eyes, expecting to be shoved aside but then she felt a blast of cold air strike through her, and when she opened her eyes, the group were behind her. She started at them, confused.

So her soul was here?

Ymir experimentally approached a man sitting reading a newspaper, and she waved her hand in front of his face, but he didn’t even blink. She tried to take the newspaper from him, but her fingers passed through it as if she was nothing. _Holy shit._

The back of Ymir’s neck tingled. _Historia is close by._ She couldn’t see her or hear her, but her heart knew. She studied her surroundings. The road was a busy one, with cars racing by, many of them hooting at each other. Alone the sidewalk were shops of all sorts, restaurants and cafes and clothing stores and the like. People were milling about all over, entering stores and eating food and laughing amongst themselves. Ymir felt a tug to her right, so she turned towards that direction and her heart fluttered.

Historia was walking with her friends from the market centre, towards where Ymir stood. There were a few teens around her, but she didn’t look at all invested in what they were talking about. A brown haired boy suddenly stopped and pointed. He was excitedly saying something, and then Historia shook her head and the group all left without her. She approached the road then, shoulders hunched and blue eyes drowning in sadness. Ymir wanted so badly to just hold her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but she knew what needed to happen, what she had to do, and her heart felt sick.

Historia stopped right by the edge of the sidewalk, staring out over the moving traffic. Ymir felt panic razor through her—did Historia really walk out herself? But all Historia did was wrap her arms around herself and sigh softly, and Ymir knew that she didn’t, that she wouldn’t.

_It’s almost time,_ Alma’s voice announced in her head. _Are you ready?_

Ymir clenched her hands into fists. “How could I ever be?”

Historia’s head lifted, brows furrowing. She looked around, but saw no one close by, and went back to staring at the road.

_Did she hear me?_ Ymir thought.

_She did,_ Alma responded.

Ymir looked around as well, but Alma wasn’t anywhere near her. It was probably all just in her head, then, and that was a little creepy. Ymir opened her mouth and was about to ask what would happen next, but then she saw a boy leap over a couple of stairs on a skateboard, hazardously swerve around a group of old ladies, and head right in Historia’s direction. Ymir knew how this would play out, but her stomach still dropped. Her body moved on its own.

The boy was too busy laughing at the disgruntled grannies to watch where he was going, and Historia was too distracted to notice him sailing towards her. In the short distance Ymir spotted a big, black truck. The boy slammed into Historia and fell backwards, his skateboard shooting into the sky. Historia’s body vaulted forward, a cry of surprise leaving her lips. Ymir heard her own footsteps slamming on the hot concrete.

Ymir reached out and grabbed Historia’s shirt, fingers threading through the soft fabric, and Historia’s fall momentarily stopped. It all happened as if it was in slow motion, but it felt like years were passing. Ymir felt sweat pouring down her face even though she wasn’t physically there. But she held Historia, suspended in the air as the truck honked loudly, not attempting to move out of the way.

_You know what to do,_ Alma spoke in her head. _Trust me._

Ymir shook her head. She didn’t want to. Alma’s words from that dream at the hospital bounced around in her mind. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? Her heart was warm and aching and tears filled her eyes. Slowly, Historia’s head began to turn.

Ymir’s fingers were quivering. Voices started circling around her head, yelling and telling and whispering, commanding that she do what she must, that there was no other way. Panic and bile rose in her throat. Historia’s eyes met hers, surprised and shocked and horrified, and with an anguished yell, Ymir used all her strength and…

… she pushed Historia in front of the truck.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter we have all been waiting for. The result of all the dreams, all of Ymir's conflict, of having to push Historia herself. Now, we get some answers. And now, the ending arc begins

Ymir woke with a start and a yell in her throat. She shot up, a blanket tumbling from her waist to the floor, arm outstretched in front of her. Hurried footsteps approached, and then Ilse appeared by the doorway, a crease between her brows and Ymir realized she was laying on the couch.

“What was that shout?” Ilse asked her, frowning. “Are you okay?”

Ymir let her arm drop limply onto her lap. “Ilse, what day is it?”

Ilse tilted her head. “July 6th, why? Is something happening?”

Ymir took a very deep inhale to calm her nerves. The dream was rushing up at her, the image of Historia tumbling towards that truck, her mouth opened wide as she tried to shout, her hands grasping at air. Ymir clutched at her shirt and winced at the throb in her chest. She froze.

_Oh no… if I failed then… then that means…_

She was almost too afraid to look, but she knew that she had to. When she lifted her shirt and found a familiar scar along her chest, she exhaled largely in relief. “Oh thank god,” she whispered. “I still got a new heart.”

Did that mean Historia had still died?

Ilse frowned at her. “I think you’re gonna be late today,” she said casually. “It’s already ten minutes into visiting hours.”

Ymir furrowed her brows. “Late? For what?”

At that Ilse stared at her as if she had grown horns. “To see Historia,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ymir’s heart fluttered. “Historia? At Saint Sina?”

Ilse put both hands on her hips. “Ymir, are you doing drugs?”

Ymir laughed, shaking her head. She climbed off the couch and headed to her room. “No, I just feel like change is good!”

“That makes no more sense, but alright!”

She hurried to get dressed, heartbeat frantic and stomach clenching. So… she had changed the timeline. Clearly she still got a new heart, and she would need to see if it still happened the same day as before. Was Ilse still seeing Nanaba? What happened to Rod? Ymir’s head started to pound, so she pushed those thoughts away and headed for the door. Just before she left, Ilse stopped her.

“Say hi to Nanaba for me,” she said with a coy smile. “And ask her if she wants to come over tonight.”

_They’re still together, thank god._

“Fine but if I have to hear her giving it to you one more time, I’ll need an ear transplant next.”

Ilse gasped dramatically, but then she started laughing and Ymir left the house with a grin on her face. The drive there was quiet and tense. Ymir wasn’t sure what to expect. Had this really worked? Would she arrive at the hospital and find Historia waiting for her there? Ymir longed so badly to feel Historia in her arms. The dreams had been real enough, but nothing compared to reality. She still remembered everything, and she hoped that it all stayed.

Ymir parked and hurried inside. Everything was as she remembered, and she greeted the various nurses that she had befriended during her long stay there. She bumped into Nanaba in the elevator, and she had never been more relieved to see her doctor.

“Hey there Ymir,” Nanaba greeted. “How are you feeling? How is the heart?”

Ymir grinned. “We’re fine, thanks. Thinking of eloping sometime soon.”

Nanaba chuckled. “You seem to be in high spirits.”

Ymir nodded. Her smile faded slightly. “So, um… how is Historia?”

Nanaba didn’t do a double take, didn’t gasp like this was some plot twist. But her smile did disappear, and she stared forward at the elevator doors. “The same,” she said. “But that’s better than worse.”

Ymir simply remained silent. She didn’t want to ask more, to make it seem like she didn’t trust Nanaba’s word. She was scared of what she would see, though.

“I’m actually on my way there right now,” Nanaba told her. “I assume you’re here to see her too.”

“Yep.”

“It still amazes me, you know.”

Ymir frowned. “What do you mean?”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out onto Historia’s floor. “Right after you were able to walk around after your transplant, you disappeared for hours. We ran around looking for you, but you were with Historia. Her life support was almost switched off that day, but for some reason her condition started to improve, and her father decided to give it a little more time.”

Ymir swallowed. “She’s amazing,” she heard herself admitting. “She deserves a second chance.”

Nanaba’s eyes filled with affection. “Yeah, and I’m sure you’ll give her that.”

They reached the door and Nanaba headed inside, but Ymir hesitated. Part of her was too scared. What waited beyond this door? What did her future look like now? Ymir gathered every shred of courage that she could, and then she stepped inside with her heart thundering.

This heart felt different. She wasn’t sure how, but it did. Because it wasn’t Historia’s.

The soft _beep beep beep_ of a heart monitor assaulted Ymir’s ears. The room was clearly lived in, with vases filled with new flowers, some with decaying ones. Nanaba immediately went to dispose of the dying flowers.

“No flowers today?” Nanaba asked her. “I thought something seemed off today.”

Ymir’s throat was absolutely dry. She had frozen just inside of the doorway, eyes glued to the small figure in the bed. Historia was somehow even more beautiful, even though she was pale and gaunt, and she was hooked up to tubes and machines.

“She’s… is she okay?”

Nanaba sent her a weird look. “She’s in a coma, Ymir.” She went over to the window and opened the curtains. “It’s been almost three years now. We were certain that there was no chance she would ever wake. But…” Nanaba eyed her. “Ever since that day we found you in her room, her body just seemed to grow stronger. She hasn’t woken yet, but I’m confident that she will.”

Ymir slowly approached the bed. She felt like crying. _She had done it._

“I did it,” Ymir choked out. Now she allowed the tears to fall. She collapsed to her knees at Historia’s bedside. “I saved you,” she whispered. Her chest was aching, but she felt lighter than ever. Yes, she was still in a coma. But Historia was _alive._

Ymir wanted to reach out and touch her, but she hesitated. She thought about everything they had gone through, from before the transplant to after, with the dreams and the pain and the anguish. It wasn’t all quite worth it yet. She still needed one more thing. Just one thing that would give sense to all of this.

Ymir carefully stood, and then she leaned down and pressed her ear to Historia’s chest. Within she heard a familiar heartbeat, and her own heart gave an unsteady jerk. She reached out and found Historia’s hand, and intertwined their fingers. Historia’s hand was thin and bony, but it was so warm and alive.

Nanaba gasped loudly. “Ymir… you…”

Ymir withdrew to look at her, confused. When she looked back at Historia, her whole world screeched to a sudden halt. Tired, bleary blue eyes peered up at her. Historia’s eyes were open.

“Historia?” Ymir uttered.

Historia squeezed her hand tightly, but her strength was diminished, so it wasn’t a powerful grasp. Still, Ymir felt it. “Hey,” Historia rasped out. Her voice sounded gravelly and rough.

New tears filled Ymir’s eyes, but she held them back. “Hey back.”

Nanaba rushed over to check Historia’s condition, forcing Ymir to take a step away. But she kept her gaze on Historia, as Historia stared at her too. It felt like something profound passed between them, like the ground had shifted and the skies cleared. For the first time since her new heart, Ymir felt like she could breathe.

Nanaba left them then, to go and call Historia’s family to let them know she was awake. Ymir stood there, staring. Her heart was thundering.

“Are you okay?” Historia asked her softly. She looked uncomfortable and way too small in that bed. Her fingers grasped at the white sheets so tightly that they lost colour too.

Ymir inhaled sharply. “You just woke from a coma. I should be asking you that.”

Historia puffed out a short laugh. “I guess.” She ran her hands over her chest, resting them right above her heart. She closed her eyes, and for a second Ymir was terrified that they wouldn’t open, but they did. “Can you come closer?”

Ymir did so immediately. Her body almost moved without any command on her part. Anything Historia wanted, she would do. “Do you… um… do you know who I am?”

A little crease formed between Historia’s blonde eyebrows. She reached out with a trembling hand, and Ymir took it without hesitation. She sank down into the nearby chair and scooted it closer, stomach rolling.

“Who you are?” Historia asked. Their eyes met, Ymir’s breath left her lungs. “Of course I know who you are.” She looked incredibly tired, and yet when she smiled it lit up her eyes and made Ymir’s entire body warm. “You’re the one from my dreams.” Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. “I missed you, Ymir.”

Ymir dropped her head to hide the tears in her eyes. She pressed Historia’s soft hand against her cheek, placed a soft kiss against her warm skin. “And you’re the girl from my dreams, too,” she choked out. “And I’m so glad to have you back.”

Historia coughed lightly. “How long has it been?”

“Three years.”

“Wow. That’s a long time. You waited all this time for me?”

Ymir lifted her head, sniffling. “Yeah. I waited a long time for you. Historia, I—”

A shout of surprise interrupted her, and Ymir turned in time to see Rod and his family rush into the room. Urklyn immediately went to Historia’s side, his blue eyes filled with tears. Mrs Reiss was already crying into a tissue, and Rod looked like he was about to collapse on the spot. He met Ymir’s eyes and he smiled, and Ymir felt new memories fill her, of getting to know Rod over the years as Historia was in that coma, of him always thanking her for being there for Historia, for helping her recover. Ymir gave him a watery smile and stood so that the family could have a moment.

She didn’t leave the room, though, and as happy as Historia seemed to see them, she couldn’t look away from Ymir either. Ymir felt her gaze the entire time, and she never looked away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare to absolutely melt. There will be more fluff and less angst from here on out. Just a little bit of conflict to carry the plot, but mostly fluff

Somehow, Historia recovered very quickly. She went to physical therapy, but her father had made sure that she underwent physical exercise while unconscious, so she didn’t experience muscle atrophy. Mr Reiss was actually a really nice guy, and Ymir very quickly grew to like him. It was clear that he loved his daughter more than anything. Sometimes, when no one was looking, he would softly cry into a tissue and Ymir had to go over and give him a hug.

For some reason Urklyn loved her. She had new memories of playing with him whenever she came to the hospital when the Reiss family were visiting Historia too. He was such a sweet kid, and Ymir really liked him too.

Mrs Reiss—Angelique—was a wonderful person as well. Ymir remembered what she had heard about the woman from Historia in those dreams, but clearly Historia hadn’t made any effort to get to know her step mother. Angelique actually cared a lot, and she tried her very best not to make Historia feel like she was trying to take her family from her.

Everything about this timeline was still the same. Ymir had undergone her surgery only a day after she originally had, with a different donor heart. She recovered the same time, left the hospital the same time and still go the job by Hitch. Things with Hitch were still great and Ymir loved her job even more now. Her mothers knew all there was to know about Historia, too, so Ymir guessed she must have spoken about her often. Ilse teased her none stop, especially now that Historia had woken.

“So when are you getting married?” Ilse would joke, sticking her tongue out. Mum would slap her upside the head, but mom had an evil glint in her eyes that frightened Ymir, because her mother definitely wanted to know when Ymir was going to take that step.

Only a mere six months after waking, Historia was discharged from the hospital. They were shocked by her quick recovering and the fact that she appeared to have no negative effects from the accident. It was as if she had never been hit by that truck, they said. It was a miracle. Ymir had a feeling that it was actually a miracle, and she knew exactly who was responsible.

“Ymir?”

She glanced down at Historia. She was putting her shoes on, the last of her outfit, and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Ymir’s heart skipped a beat. No matter how many times she came to visit Historia, how often she touched her, heard her voice, or just saw her, Ymir always felt like the breath was pulled from her lungs. Her knees turned to jelly and her mind was completely and utterly captured by everything that was Historia.

Ymir was so unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her. After all, she had been prepared to give her life up for Historia. Whenever Ymir remembered that life where Historia had been dead, her chest would give a dull throb and sometimes, in quiet moments, she would cry. She couldn’t help it. The one person she loved so much that it ached had been dead, and just knowing that a time like that had existed was painful.

“Mm?”

Historia stood from the bed and flashed a small smile. “You look a million miles away,” she said. “Is there something on your mind?”

Ymir stepped forward and placed her hands on Historia’s hips. On que Historia’s cheeks flushed a bright, vibrant red. Ymir smiled like a sap. “Just you,” she admitted in a soft whisper. “Always you, Historia.”

Historia was staring up at her with wide blue eyes. She swallowed audibly and placed her hands on Ymir’s chest. Her smile was so achingly beautiful that Ymir wanted to drop down to her knees and worship her. “We’ve never spoken about it, you know,” Historia said softly. “I feel like we need to.”

Ymir furrowed her brows. “About what?” She was aware that they were standing too close. If she just leaned down to Historia’s height, she could kiss her.

“You know what.”

Ymir lifted a hand and caressed Historia’s cheek. It was impossibly soft and warm. Alive. Ymir closed her eyes and pressed their foreheads together. It was warm where their skin touched. “The dreams,” she said.

Historia sighed. “Something amazing happened during that time, Ymir. Aren’t you at least a bit curious as to what it was? How it was possible?”

Ymir was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. She gently wrapped her arms around Historia’s body and pulled her tightly against her. She buried her nose against Historia’s throat, where her pulse throbbed excitedly. Ymir inhaled the scent of Historia and exhaled in a sigh. “I don’t care,” she admitted. “I’m just…” Her throat felt swollen with emotion. Tears gathered in her eyes and she was glad Historia couldn’t see it. “I’m so glad you’re here and well.”

Historia rubbed circles against her back. “You sound like I died or something,” Historia said playfully. “But I’m here, Ymir. I don’t know how, but I feel like I have you to thank for that.”

Ymir forced herself to pull away. She sniffled and realized a few tears had slipped out. Historia’s face filled with concern, and she reached out to brush the tears away. “Why are you crying?”

Ymir studied her face. “Because I love you,” she admitted. It was the first time she had actually said it. She knew Historia knew. There was no denying it with the way Ymir had acted around her, how intimate their embraces and gazes were. But it was different to finally have it in the air between them. It made it real. “I love you so much that I feel like my heart could stop.”

Historia frowned. “Don’t say something like that.” She pressed her hand against Ymir’s chest, right over the scar. “Your heart needs to keep beating forever.”

Ymir finally cracked a grin. “Why, would you miss me?”

Historia lifted a brow. “Who on earth would I love then, the way I love you?”

Ymir’s entire body tingled. At some level, she had known. Hearing Historia say those words made happiness fill her to bursting. She couldn’t stop herself from diving forward and lifting Historia into the air. She twirled her around, laughing in joy.

“I love you!” she yelled, not caring if anyone nearby could hear.

“Ymir!” Historia laughed. Her face was bright and happy. “You big dork.”

Ymir stopped twirling, but she didn’t put Historia down. For a long moment they merely stared at each other, Historia’s hands gripping Ymir’s shoulder. Historia suddenly dipped down, and then they were kissing and Ymir’s mind went blank. She stumbled backwards into the bed and sat down, afraid that her shaking hands would slip and she would send Historia falling. Historia’s kiss truly did steal the breath from her lungs. Ymir felt energized and filled, and nothing tasted more like love than Historia’s lips. They kissed for an eternity, Historia’s hands weaving through Ymir’s hair, Ymir’s hands at Historia’s hips. It never went farther and it didn’t need to. When they pulled apart, Ymir had to gasp and catch her breath. Historia brushed their noses, trailed a fingertip along her jaw.

“I feel like…” Historia whispered so softly that had they not been so closely pressed together, Ymir would not have heard it. “Like I owe you my life. Like we were destined, or I was made specifically to be with you, here. My chest is so warm and my heart hurts, but it feels good. I feel like without you, Ymir, I would die.”

Ymir hugged her closer. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“Thank you.”

They kissed again, softly, and then a throat cleared at the door and they pulled apart, blushing.

“As incredibly touching as this is, I’m afraid I need you guys to vacate the room.” It was Nanaba. She was smiling apologetically at them, but she seemed more amused than anything. “Finally had a talk about those feelings, huh?”

Ymir snorted. They were in a compromising position—Ymir sitting on the bed, Historia straddling her lap. But Ymir didn’t care. She stood from the bed and helped Historia to her feet. She took her hand. “Shall we?”

Historia grinned. “We probably should. Dad will be worried sick if we don’t leave soon.”

Ymir resisted the urge to laugh. Rod was an extreme worrywart now, and he hadn’t been all that happy when Ymir had begged him to be the one to escort Historia home. The only reason he had let her was that she had insisted that she was going to confess. He knew how Ymir felt about Historia, and he very much encouraged it. He was still a protective, worried father, though. Ymir adored him.

“Yeah, daddy Reiss can get a bit whiny. Let’s go.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes at them, but smiled as they left the room and headed for the elevator, holding hands. Ymir had Historia’s bag slung over one shoulder—she had absolutely insisted on being the one to take it, despite Historia being very able to do it herself. The silence between them was warm and comfortable. When the doors closed, Ymir couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss, which turned into another, and another, and they had to quickly pull apart when the doors opened. Ymir was almost skipping when they left the hospital and headed to her car.

“I should probably start calling Rod my dad too,” she mused out loud.

Historia snorted ungracefully and then laughed. “Oh, he’d love that.”

“Marry me.”

Historia paused. She shut the car door. “Are you serious?”

Ymir tossed the bag into the backseat and turned to give Historia a serious look. “I am. I know this is all so… strange, but I…” She looked away. “I can’t live without you, Historia. Not again. Not ever.” She dropped down onto her knees and Historia’s eyes widened.

“Ymir, holy shit.”

“I’m dead serious here. Marry me. Be with me forever. Make me yours. Just…” Her voice cracked. “Be with me.”

Historia lifted a hand and wiped the tears collecting at her eyes. “What’s with us?” she asked, laughing. “We’re acting like the world is about to end.”

“It could.”

Historia stared at her. Eventually she smiled, and then she cupped Ymir’s face in her hands and leaned down to kiss her. “Yes,” she said against her lips. “I’d love to marry you.”

Ymir could hardly believe this was happening. She had been thinking very deeply about this, had even been looking at rings, but she never expected to ask so soon and for Historia to actually say yes. Her chest nearly exploded with warmth. She stood and pulled Historia into her arms, just thinking that she was the luckiest motherfucker in existence.

_I’m so happy that you’re alive,_ she thought. She looked up at the sky. _Thank you, Alma._

They eventually pulled apart long enough to climb in the car, but Ymir immediately took Historia’s hand. They were going to have dinner at Historia’s.

“Do you have a ring yet?” Historia asked.

“No, not yet. I’ve been looking though. I didn’t really plan on asking so soon.”

Historia giggled. “I mean, we haven’t even started officially dating. It was more like, it just happened from the second I woke up. We should look at rings together.”

Ymir lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Hell yes. Do you want to tell anyone yet?”

“I think we should wait a bit. I’ve just recovered and my father is still pretty sensitive.”

“He loves me though. He’ll be happy.”

“Oh, he will definitely be happy. Sometimes I think he loves you more than me.”

Ymir shook her head and stopped at a red light. “Hell no. You’re his world, His’. He’d trade me for you in a second, and I’d let him.”

Historia rolled her eyes. “I can hardly believe how much things have changed. The way I feel now about my life, about my family… it’s all changed.” She looked down at her lap. “I still miss my mother so much, and I’m not sure if I’m completely over the grief yet, but I feel like I can finally move on. Since waking up I’ve realized that my father really does love me, and so does Angelique. I’m lucky to have them after losing my mother. And you…” Her smile made Ymir’s heart flutter. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Ymir flushed with happiness. She had to look away and continue driving, but her grin didn’t once melt away. “I think more like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to _me._ Trust me.”

“Oh my god, we are so disgustingly mushy,” Historia laughed. “I’ve never been in love like this before. It’s so crazy.”

_You have no idea,_ Ymir thought. _I defied time and death to bring you back, Historia. You truly have no idea what I am willing to do for you._

They stopped in front of the Reiss home and sat in silence for a moment. Ymir wondered if she would ever tell Historia the truth. She seemed so happy now, compared to how depressed and suicidal she had been. Would telling her the truth change that?

Ymir thought about the last dream, the one that still haunted her, made her shoot up in bed screaming. _No, Historia can never find out,_ she thought. _If she knows that I pushed her, she might never forgive me_. Ymir was terrified that Historia would remember that, but she claimed that she didn’t remember anything of that day, not even going out with her friends. It was a huge blank to her, and Ymir thanked Alma or whoever. If Historia had remembered that terrible moment, their reality could have been very different.

She leaned over and surprised Historia with another deep, lingering kiss. Historia’s breath hitched. “What was that for?” she breathed.

Ymir opened her eyes and swept her thumb over Historia’s lower lip. “Couldn’t resist.” She grinned naughtily and then hopped out of the car, laughing. Historia joined her once she rounded the car, and they linked hands.

“Just behave yourself,” Historia warned her.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Ymir husked. She kissed her quickly on the cheek and then straightened and vowed to keep her desires in check. Historia’s hand in hers tightened and her blue eyes studied her face. Ymir felt like she was burning under that gaze, but it felt so good.

The front door opened before they even reached it, and the Reiss family stood there, smiling. When Rod noticed their linked hands, his smile widened.

Ymir didn’t remember ever being so overwhelmingly happy.


	16. Chapter 16

Angelique, it turned out, was an absolutely amazing cook. From some new memories filtering in, Ymir knew that she’d eaten Mrs Reiss’s food before, but this still felt foreign to her. Historia seemed just as surprised, but she made no secret out of her delight. They were all seated around a small dining table—Mr Reiss had gotten rid of the long one, opting instead for fewer space between seats so that they could use dinnertime as bonding time, too. Ymir felt like he was trying to change himself into being more family orientated, which only made her love him more.

“Oh wow, this is amazing, Angelique,” Historia groaned around a forkful of rice and meat.

Ymir smothered a smile behind her hand. “See what you were missing in that long nap of yours?”

Historia rolled her eyes, but everyone laughed. “I can’t believe you go to taste her food before me.”

Rod lifted his fork and wiggled it playfully. “It was a reward for all the times she visited you,” he laughed. “Food seemed to seal the deal.”

Ymir nodded, grinning. “Hell yes. I’d bring their daughter back if they kept my belly full.”

Ymir’s throat suddenly tightened. Everyone seemed to realize that their conversation had touched on a very sensitive topic, especially when Historia’s eyes suddenly dropped to her lap and she set her fork down. Ymir regretted her mindless joke. Surely Historia still had a lot to sort out after being in that coma—a lot she didn’t remember, the fact of her waking up at all being classified as such a miracle. And there was some part of her that _knew_ that Ymir was responsible somehow, but Ymir didn’t know how she knew. Even back then in the original timeline, Ymir had never told her that she had been dead.

Historia didn’t know that in another life, she was dead.

“I’m sorry about all of that,” Historia spoke up suddenly. It was the last thing anyone expected her to say.

Rod set his fork down as well. “You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart.”

“It was an accident,” Angelique interjected nervously. “You weren’t responsible.”

“But even so,” Historia insisted. Her eyes were blazing fiercely. “If I never shut everyone out like I did, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. I treated you terribly, dad.” She looked up and looked at Rod, then his wife. “And you, Angelique.”

Angelique’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly waved her hands. “Nonsense. You barely knew me, you were dealing with a great loss.”

Historia smiled. Everyone seemed to relax slightly. “I’m back, and that’s the main thing. I want to do everything I can now, to make up for the time I lost.”

Ymir found Historia’s hand underneath the table and intertwined their fingers. Historia’s gaze lifted to meet hers, and Ymir’s breath left her lungs. If Urklyn wasn’t sitting right across from them, she would have kissed Historia senseless. But she held herself back and instead gave Historia’s hand a squeeze. To her surprise, Historia brought their joined hands out from underneath the table and set them down on top of the table. Everyone noticed, but they only smiled.

“We’re getting married,” Historia suddenly blurted. Ymir started coughing, having swallowed wrong in her shock. Even Historia seemed taken aback by her words.

Rod’s eyes were wide. “What?”

Historia dissolved into giggles and Ymir felt her face heat up. “Historia,” she whispered, leaning in close so the others couldn’t hear. “I thought you wanted us to keep it secret for now.”

Historia nodded, still giggling. “I did. It just slipped out, I’m sorry.” She took a shaky breath to ward off the giggles, and then she pulled Ymir down for a soft, slow kiss. Urklyn started screaming, feigning burns to his eyes, and his mother scolded him for being rude, but he was laughing. Ymir’s face was burning brightly now.

“Historia,” Rod started firmly. “Is this true?”

They pulled away, Ymir a little dazed, Historia grinning. “It is. Ymir proposed to me before we came over.”

_Way to throw me under the bus,_ Ymir thought in panic. Rod eyed her for a long time as if he was calculating how long it would take him to vault over the table and throttle her. But he was just teasing, and his face broke out into a large, joyous smile.

“There is no one else I would feel safer leaving my daughter to,” he told her. “I genuinely like you Ymir. I never understood why you were so adamant on staying by Historia’s side as long as you did, despite her being unconscious. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the depths of your feelings for one another, but we have all definitely seen it.”

Angelique’s smile was just as warm. “We’re happy for you.”

Ymir blinked. Didn’t they think it was too soon? Historia hadn’t been awake all that long. It was clear that if they’d known each other before the accident, it hadn’t been all that well. They were just going to accept her like this? Ymir felt overwhelmed enough to cry, but thankfully she didn’t. She just turned to give Historia a grin, and Historia lifted a brow at her.

“Told you that your dad would be happy.”

Historia snorted. “You’re such a dork.”

Everyone at the table laughed again. The mood settled down to something light, warm and familiar. They finished their food and spoke about wedding plans, possible future children and other lighter topics. Historia was determined to finish school and study further. Ymir had a job that paid well, so she was looking into moving out on her own. Just from the conversation, Ymir really felt like everything was falling into place.

After dinner, Angelique put Urklyn to bed. Rod stayed with them in the lounge, where they were seated on the couches. “You should stay the night,” he suggested with a smile. “You can share Historia’s bed.”

Historia lifted a brow. “You do realize we might not keep our hands off of each other?”

Ymir’s face warmed. “Historia!”

Rod gave a deep, hearty laugh. “Just not too loud,” he teased. “It’s getting late and I’ve grown old from stress. Will you stay over, Ymir?”

Ymir nodded. “Of course.” She stared at her hand in Historia’s, trying to imagine what sharing a bed with her would feel like.

They hadn’t done anything more than kiss yet. Just thinking about sex with Historia made her heart thunder hard. Historia could probably feel the rapid beating of her pulse by her wrist, because she stood suddenly and pulled Ymir to her feet.

“Let’s go to bed,” she suggested softly.

They said goodnight to Rod and also to Angelique on the way, and then they stepped into Historia’s bedroom and the door clicked shut behind them. The room was dark, but Historia pressed up against her and Ymir’s back hit the door. She swallowed.

“I meant it,” Historia whispered into the quiet air. “I don’t want to keep my hands off of you.” She pressed even closer, bringing her hands up to caress Ymir’s face. “Do you want to remain chaste and wait until after we get married, or…?”

Ymir’s lips spread in a long, rakish grin. “What about me looks chaste to you?”

Historia laughed. “Nothing.”

Ymir bent down and picked Historia up. Historia laughed softly and wrapped her legs around Ymir’s waist. She strode over to the bed and set Historia down gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Ymir asked her softly.

Historia smiled up at her. “My heart belongs to you,” she admitted quietly. “Why not my body too?”

Ymir rolled her eyes and dipped down to kiss her. They lazily pulled their clothes off, lips barely parting even when it became difficult to undress. They would pause, laugh and help with a stubborn sock or a stuck zipper. When they were naked, Ymir sat back to admire Historia’s body. Instead of being embarrassed, Historia merely stared openly up at her, waiting. She was absolutely beautiful. She had a soft tummy, soft golden hair and scars that crisscrossed over her wrists and thighs. Even the sight of them was beautiful, because they were Historia. All of her stretch marks and scars and spots. Ymir ran her fingertips over a deep scar at Historia’s inner thigh. Her eyes flicked up when Historia inhaled.

“You don’t think they’re a turn off?” Historia asked, eyes worried.

Ymir shook her head. She covered Historia’s body with her own and captured her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. She pulled away and slid lower to kiss along Historia’s throat. Historia’s body was soft and warm against hers, and it made her warmer than anything.

Ymir paused at Historia’s pulse point, feeling the steady thrum of her heart against her lips. “Everything about you is beautiful to me, Historia.” She lifted herself by her arms and stared into Historia’s blue eyes. “Even the sad parts, even the bad parts, and even these…” She touched a scar. “They are proof of your struggle and that you’re alive. And I love you.”

Historia grinned. “Can we have a couple of orgasms first before we start crying?”

Ymir dropped back down, laughing. She buried her face against Historia’s neck and let her hand wonder down between them. Historia released a breathless moan against her ear, and Ymir truly felt at home.

XxX

Somehow, Ymir had forgotten. It was so easy to be lulled into an easy sense of happiness and security. And really, she was happy. There was nothing in her current life to contradict that. Ymir had just forgotten about her nightmares. They were normal now, just the product of trauma and memories that refused to leave her.

This one, though. It was not normal.

Ymir opened her eyes, but Historia was not beside her. She was still naked and she could still remember every detail of making love to Historia. She was greatly confused at first, until she sat up and ran a hand through her hair, and saw a figure sitting at the edge of the bed. There was familiar blonde hair.

“Historia?” she questioned sleepily.

The figure turned, but it wasn’t Historia. Ymir realized what was happening. This was a dream. It was _the_ dream. She immediately pulled a sheet near to cover her body.

“Hi there, Ymir,” Alma said with a soft smile. “I’m sorry for intruding on your happiness.”

Ymir stared at her, frightened. “Alma, why…?”

Alma shook her head and pointed at the bed. Suddenly Historia was there, but she was fast asleep, nude underneath the covers as well. Ymir swallowed her rising panic.

“Let us go somewhere more private,” Alma suggested. “How about Rod’s study?”

Ymir could only numbly agree and climb out of bed to dress. She couldn’t tell if she was hallucinating, if the Historia in the bed was just a dream too, or if this was all real. Her heart was beating wildly and her stomach felt sick.


	17. Chapter 17

“Oh please, there is no need to look so green. I’m not here to give you bad news.”

Ymir released the breath she had been holding. Even with the reassurance, she still felt sick. “Why are you here then?”

Rod’s study was as pristine as always. It smelt softly of ink and old leather, a smell that brought Ymir a small measure of comfort. Alma took a seat at the chair and waved Ymir closer.

“How is Historia doing?”

Confused, Ymir grabbed the nearest chair and sat down too. She felt like she was in a meeting, or an interview. It was weird with how relaxed Alma looked. “She’s… fine.”

“That’s good. She looked well.” Alma smiled. The skin at the corners of her eyes crinkled, and she looked so much like Historia. “I came to tell you one thing,” Alma said, leaning forward. “What we did, it was against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“Don’t worry about that. But I want you to know that it can’t be undone or redone. This is your only second chance.”

Ymir swallowed. “I guessed as much. There won’t be a reason to need to redo it. I’ll keep Historia safe.”

“I believe you will, Ymir. You love my daughter. It’s the power of your emotions that let you break through time and save her. I’ll be forever grateful.”

The panic cramping her stomach was slowly starting to fade away. Ymir smiled softly. “I’d do it again if I had to, you know. I’d do it all over again, if it meant I could save her life. She deserves to live. She… she’s more amazing than words can ever describe.”

Alma’s eyes softened. “A love like yours for Historia is a rare one. But this _is_ love. I’m so happy that my daughter gets to experience this: you. But I have one more request.” She clasped her hands together. Ymir stared, waiting. “You need to tell her.”

Ymir’s hands clenched into fists. “Tell her? About everything?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.”

“You must.”

“Alma… I can’t. I… I pushed her, for Christ’s sake!”

Alma nodded like it was an everyday admission. “That you did, at my behest. She would have been struck either way, and your intervention altered the point of impact and ultimately, the severity of her accident. Had you not pushed her, Ymir, she would have died again. Might even have died instantly due to our meddling.”

Ymir felt a cold sweat cover her skin. Her heart was hammering. “She’ll hate me,” she choked out. “If she knows I pushed her, she might hate me.”

“Ymir, she will remember. She saw your face, your hands outstretched as she was shoved in front of that truck. She _will_ remember. Would you rather she come to her own conclusions? If you love her, you will tell her in your own words. Historia loves you. I know that. She knows that _something_ extraordinary happened. Give her more credit.”

Ymir’s heart was pounding so hard that she wondered if Alma could hear it. Everything Alma was saying made perfect sense, but Ymir’s stomach was in knots again and she couldn’t calm herself down.

“Do I really have to?”

“This is not a bad thing, Ymir.” Alma stood and rounded the table to place a hand on her arm. “You saved her life. You were willing to trade places with her. When she hears this, she will love you more.”

Ymir stared out the window. That would be a nice outcome, yeah. But would Historia really understand?

XxX

Historia’s eyes slid open and she stared up at the ceiling in confusion for a second. When memory bled back in, she turned to Ymir, but found the bed empty. She felt cold instantly, so she shoved the blanket aside and pulled her silk gown on. The floor was cold underneath her bare feet.

She left the room in search of Ymir, wondering where she had gone. When she neared Rod’s study, she heard muffled voices inside. Two of them. She recognized Ymir’s voice, and the other… Historia’s heart nearly stopped. She inched closer, mindful of her footsteps.

“I’ll try,” she heard Ymir say. Her voice sounded nervous.

“Thank you,” the other voice responded. Historia felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest. That voice… it filled her with so much pain and longing. What was going on?

“I’ll tell her when the time is right,” Ymir continued. “I’ll tell her everything.”

“You must,” the other voice agreed.

Historia sucked in a deep breath. She grabbed hold of the door handle and yanked hard, heart thundering. If she was right, if this was—

Historia gasped and shot up in bed. She grasped the sheet between her fingers and looked beside her, where Ymir was curled up in a ball. Her heart was still pounding hard, and there was an odd burn in her chest.

“Just a dream,” she breathed, face flushed. “It was just a dream.” She flopped back down and stared up at the ceiling. “What a strange dream.”

“Historia,” Ymir mumbled in her sleep.

Historia turned to look at her, and smiled. She scooted closer and drew Ymir’s arm around her. The movement made Ymir uncurl herself and cuddle closer. The crease between her eyebrows smoothed, and her frown disappeared. Historia pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” she whispered aloud, caressing Ymir’s face. “And why do I feel so scared when I think about it?”

Ymir never responded, because she was fast asleep, so Historia decided to join her again. Strangely, she couldn’t seem to relax. Historia laid there in Ymir’s arms until soft sunlight spilled through the curtains, and Angelique called them for breakfast.


	18. Chapter 18

“I feel like everything is moving so quickly, you know?”

“Mm.”

“But at the same time, it’s not moving fast enough. Does that even make sense? What even is time? How much time do we even have? Should we wait, or is waiting foolish? Should we—”

Ymir kissed Historia softly to end her sudden desire to seek out the secrets of the universe. Historia laughed against her lips and scooted closer until she was atop Ymir. They kissed and kissed and finally, when Ymir pulled away, Historia’s eyes were shining brightly and her smile was beautiful.

“Your voice is so lovely,” Ymir told her with a skip in her heart. “But I think you were going to give yourself a stroke there.”

Historia laughed again. “Well, I can’t deny that your method of shutting me up was quite… hmm…” She leaned forward and initiated another kiss that Ymir was more than happy to participate in. “Convincing.”

“Oh, good. Because I got what you were saying there, but I’m also going to insert that I’m marrying you. Definitely. So long as you want me.”

Historia’s face softened, making Ymir’s breath catch. “I want nothing more than I want you, baby.”

Ymir sighed as they kissed again. Honestly, they barely went any time without kissing each other. How could they not? How was Ymir supposed to resist Historia, in any capacity?

“Mm, babe,” Ymir mumbled against Historia’s lips, “this is so nice but I need to head to work.”

Historia pulled away and smushed her cheek against Ymir’s bare chest. “Do you really have to?” she whined.

“We’ve been living together for a month, baby. You know I’d rather be at home with you.”

Historia sighed. “I know. I just miss you so much when you’re gone.”

“That’s gay.”

Historia laughed, slapping her chest softly. “Dork.”

“Come on, shower with me. And no sex, or I’ll be late again.”

As they climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom, Historia pouted. Ymir had really thought that _she_ would be the insatiable one, but Historia was the one with a libido up to the roof. Honestly, Ymir loved it. Every time they made love, Ymir felt reborn. Every orgasm broke her apart and wove her back together again.

They showered and washed each other, laughing and tossing a soapy sponge until it stuck to the ceiling, causing harder laughter, and fell down into Ymir’s face. Afterwards they dried and dressed, and Ymir helped blow-dry Historia’s long hair. When that was done they made a quick breakfast of omelettes and toast, and ate with Historia in Ymir’s lap. They were constantly in the same space, practically breathing the same air, but Ymir loved it.

At some point she had noticed that she and Historia were unusually in sync. Not as in like, sometimes said the same thing or finished each other’s sentences. As in, their heartbeats were constantly in sync. If Historia moved, Ymir moved at the same time. If Historia was about to say something, Ymir already knew it. These small things she noticed, but it didn’t concern her, or Historia. They’d talked about it, of course. They talked about everything. Well, almost everything…

Remembering the big secret she still kept hold of, Ymir’s appetite died away. She set her fork down and shoved her plate away.

“Full so quickly?”

Ymir wrapped her arms around Historia and nuzzled against her shoulder. “Mm,” she hummed, not trusting her voice not to give her away.

As happy as she truly was, she still had the nightmares. Variations of it, but always the same one. She dreamt of things that had happened that she hadn’t even witnessed, such as Historia’s life support switching off, of her heart growing still, of the surgery where they harvested her heart. Ymir even dreamt about her own surgery, where she’d received that heart.

Sometimes she woke up late at night, not screaming, but sweaty and panting and sick to her stomach. She left Historia in bed and made herself something warm to drink. Often she would return to bed, but not sleep. She simply stared at Historia and thought of everything, and wished that she did not need to tell her.

She knew she had to.


	19. Chapter 19

They had dinner with Ymir’s parents. Historia absolutely loved them, and to her delight, they loved her as well. They doted over them the entire evening and indulged in using every bit of childhood evidence they had to embarrass Ymir. Historia had loved meeting them, spending the night with them. She could see where Ymir got her looks and personality from, how she had turned out to be such a wonderful person.

But one thing bothered her all evening: Ymir had seemed distracted. Perhaps even her mothers had noticed, but no one mentioned it. For the past while, Historia had noticed that something was changing in Ymir. She was growing more distant, almost scared. They were still insanely happy together, but they hardly really went out, as if Ymir was afraid of the world.

As if they would step outside and suddenly die.

It was puzzling and upsetting. Especially since Historia knew that Ymir had nightmares so bad that sometimes she woke up screaming. Historia tried not to let her know that she’d woken, that she knew, because she sensed that Ymir didn’t want her to know. The frustration, worry and confusion was melting.

“Maybe this one? Reminds me of your eyes.”

Historia looked to Ymir, hiding her unease behind a smile. They were out in town, one of the rare days where Ymir wasn’t agonizingly frightened of going out. “Oh?”

She bent down by Ymir and peered into the display case. Within was a golden ring topped by a beautiful light blue diamond. Ymir’s adoring smile made her chest untighten and warm.

“Money isn’t an issue, so pick whatever you want,” Ymir told her, smiling.

Historia scooted closer to Ymir until they were flush against each other. Being close to Ymir always put her at ease, no matter what. Even if Ymir was the thing causing her unease. “It’s beautiful,” she told Ymir. “And you’re a darling.”

Ymir kissed her softly. “I’ll be anything you need of me.”

Historia tried not to frown. Despite the wide smile, she sensed the current of seriousness in Ymir’s voice. She opened her mouth to mention it, but the jeweller approached them and dispelled the moment.

“Good morning ladies, can I help you with anything?”

They straightened. The man was grey haired and round faced, cheeks pink and flushed. His smile was friendly and he looked to the ring they were eyeing with a happy grin.

“We’re just looking for now,” Ymir told him pleasantly. “But thank you.”

The man dipped his head and gave them one more smile before turning to another couple across the room. Historia watched him go, then took Ymir’s hand and gave it a tug. Her enthusiasm for looking at rings had gone. She wanted to go home.

“I think we can come back some other day.”

Ymir gave her a questioning look, but followed her out the door. They didn’t come to this part of town often. Historia almost couldn’t remember what shops were here. Her stomach growled loudly, so she decided to pull them in a different direction. “Why don’t we eat something before we go home?”

She turned onto a street filled with restaurants. Ymir’s grip on her hand tightened painfully and she stopped walking, forcing Historia to stop with her. “No, we can eat at home,” Ymir said, eyes wide and panicked.

Historia furrowed her brows. She could see a really nice restaurant across the street. She remembered eating there with her friends once, and she was curious to see if much had changed in the last few years. “I’d actually like to eat there,” she said, pointing out the place. “We don’t need to do every single thing at home.”

She stepped away from Ymir, but her grip turned to steel. Historia winced and tried to tug her hand away. “Historia, please,” Ymir begged, frantic now. “Let’s rather just go somewhere else. That way.” She pointed behind them.

Historia felt a rush of emotions. Panic and pain and despair. She wasn’t sure where this was coming from, but it reminded her of the dark part of her past, when she’d been incredibly depressed before Ymir came into her life. Her heart started to pound uncomfortably hard.

“Ymir, let me go.” It came out like ice.

Ymir’s throat bobbed. Her eyes darted from the street and back, like she saw a ghost there.

“Historia, please.”

“Please what? You’re hurting me. Please let me go. I’ll go and eat on my own if you want to act like this.”

Ymir shook her head. She started to pull Historia, but she resisted and pulled back. Ymir’s fingers were digging really painfully into her skin, and she let the pain show on her face. Ymir saw it, but she didn’t stop. She seemed to grow increasingly panicked.

“Historia, don’t you know what this street is?”

She frowned. “Does it even matter?”

“Of course it matters!” Ymir shouted. “You should know… You should…” She dropped her gaze. “But I guess you don’t.”

Historia finally snapped. It came from absolutely nowhere. She tugged hard and broke free from Ymir’s grip, but she hadn’t realized how much strength she had needed, and she ended up tripping backwards. Ymir’s eyes flew open.

Historia felt herself fall backwards, into the street. Car tires screeched and a hooter blasted, but she couldn’t stop herself from falling. Ymir dove forward, reaching for her, and just like that, she remembered.

She remembered turning to Ymir, so long ago. She remembered her surprise that Ymir was even there, then the horror as warm hands shoved her hard, sending her hurtling towards that truck. Historia let out a horrible scream, not just because she was falling, but because she remembered.

She closed her eyes and waited for the impact, the pain. Instead strong hands grabbed her roughly and tugged her forward, and she fell into Ymir’s arms. The car screeched by, blasting its horn so loud that her ears rang. She was breathing hard and her heart was pounding, but the only thing she could hear was Ymir’s heart.

“Jesus,” Ymir muttered, voice choked. “Please don’t leave me again.”

Historia pulled away. Tears slid down Ymir’s pale skin, dripping from her chin. “You pushed me,” Historia told her brokenly, tears blurring her vision. “Ymir.” Ymir looked away, tears falling harder. “Did you really push me?”

Ymir turned to look at her there. All of her fear and nightmares made sense. “Yes,” Ymir told her quietly. “But will you let me explain?”

Everything hurt. Her head, her heart and her body. She was no longer touching her, but she ached without her touch, even though part of her trembled in fear. “Okay,” she said, wiping a hand across her wet face. “Explain everything, Ymir.” She grabbed her hand and refused to let go. “And don’t hide from me anymore.”


	20. Chapter 20

It was strange how things worked.

Ymir was certain that she had lost Historia forever. She knew that she had become too worried and overbearing, and that Historia had noticed. It wouldn’t have lasted forever. Something was bound to give.

That day, she hadn’t realized which part of town they had wondered to, not until they stopped at that road, the one where Historia had originally lost her life. Ymir had been assaulted by the memory of pushing Historia. Regardless of the favourable outcome, it had still been a terrible thing to do, and the memory of it would haunt her forever until she took her last breath.

When Historia had pulled away and tripped, and nearly fallen into the road, Ymir had thought that maybe time had caught up with them and death had come to reclaim Historia for himself. She had seen her life without Historia flash before her eyes. She wasn’t sure how she managed to grab Historia in time, how she managed to save her, only that she had. Again.

Afterwards, she told Historia everything. She was just as shaken, and they cried through the whole thing. After that they barely slept, merely held onto each other like that was all they could do.

Once Historia knew, Ymir felt like she could breathe again. Slowly, the nightmares began to fade. She would never forget the original timeline, but it was getting easier to put it aside and not think about it. Alma never appeared before her again, either, and Ymir decided to take that as a good sign. After everything they had gone through, it felt like they were finally moving on and living the lives they deserved.

A soft touch brought Ymir back to the present. Historia was smiling at her, blue eyes soft and filled with so much love that it made Ymir’s breath get stuck in her throat. She took the hand that pressed against her own, and gave Historia’s fingers a gentle squeeze. The sunlight behind her made Historia glow brightly in her beautiful, white dress.

Historia’s gaze was a question, so Ymir finally gave her answer.

“I do.”

The End


End file.
